Little Talks
by B and M
Summary: A series of short scenes between Rick and Michonne starting at the beginning of Season 5 and following along with the series.
1. Chapter 1

The church walls were bathed in the soft yellow glow of candlelight, and the sounds of conversation and laughter echoed throughout. After dinner, the group had agreed to Abraham's proposal to head to Washington, DC to pursue a cure and safe haven. The mood was light and optimistic which was a welcome change from the past few weeks.

After handing Judith off to Tyreese and Sasha, Rick grabbed one of the opened half full bottles of communion wine Father Gabriel had given them access to and made his way back to the front where he had been sitting next to Michonne.

He sat down on the floor, and tilted the bottle towards her offering first dibs on the wine.

"Just a little bit. I'm taking watch next," she answered. He poured a small amount in her glass before she held up a hand to stop him, then he filled his. They clinked glasses and started to drink.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye with a bemused expression as she swirled the wine in the glass and held it up to her nose for a sniff before taking a sip and closing her eyes. After a few seconds she opened them to find a laughing Rick who asked, "What are you doing?"

Refusing to allow him to get the best of her, she looked him in the eye and unapologetically replied, "I'm savoring my wine, thank you very much."

He mouthed an exaggerated 'oh' and followed up with, "Good?"

"The hell if I know. Everything smells and tastes like stagnate water and walkers after this morning," she said referring to their trip to the food bank.

They both laughed and grimaced at the recent memory. After the laughter came to an end, they sat quietly sipping their wine for a minute before he said, "Bet you lived in the city, didn't you?"

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

"Besides the fancy way you drink your wine? You like soy milk and art-"

"Wait, how do you even know that?" she interrupted.

"Carl," he said grinning. "He tells me all sorts of things about you. He thinks you're the coolest and I always feel like he's tryin' to rub it in his old man's face."

Michonne let out a huff and shook her head smiling at the thought of Carl sharing parts of their relationship with his father. She also felt a little nervousness creep in given Carl knows much more about her past than trivial facts like those. She told him that the disclosure about her son wasn't a secret, but he had promised to hold it in confidence anyway. She started to wonder if maybe he had told Rick, but pushed the thought to the back of her mind so as not to ruin a rare nice night.

"So that's it? Wine, soy milk, and art? Shaky case. There's a lot of evidence to the contrary," she retorted as she took another sip of wine.

"Nah, I've thought so for a while. Just something about how you carry yourself. And when you get to talkin sometimes something in your voice just gives it away. All that other stuff just seals the deal." He looked at her with a cocky grin that made her either want to smack him or grab him right there and kiss him. "Well, am I right?"

She sighed. "Born and raised in Atlanta. Lived in a high rise building in Midtown before everything happened. So yeah, you got me," she conceded. ""Although I'm far from 'fancy' anymore."

He smiled and nodded his head, nowhere near the gloating she expected from being right. "What did you do?" he asked simply.

"I was a lawyer."

"That makes a hell of a lot of sense..." he trailed off. She wanted to press further to see what he meant, but left it at that.

"I was thinking on the walk back from the food bank today that I hardly knew anything about you. We've been traveling together for weeks and I'm just now gettin around to it," he said shaking his head as if lightly scolding himself.

"I've never taken offense. You do have more important things to worry about than my favorite color," she offered with a quick smile.

"Purple?"

"Seriously? Because I'm a girl?" she asked in a mock offended tone.

He glanced down at her chest and pointed his finger, "Your shirt's purple. Jeez."

She looked down and realized he was right, but she wasn't willing to let him win again, so she decided not to confirm and move on to another topic, "So what about Rick Grimes? Tell me something about yourself."

"What's there to tell? Everybody already knows every last damn detail of my life whether I want them to or not. It's all out there," he said with resignation in his voice that was a change in tone from their light conversation.

She couldn't counter that. She wasn't around for the demise of his marriage, but what happened between Shane and Lori was common knowledge. She also witnessed his breakdown after Lori's death along with the entire group. She had always been empathetic to Rick because his heartbreak struck so close to home for her. On one hand she felt lucky that she went through her darkest times without an audience because she had no one to remind her of it now except herself and each day it became easier to push to the back of her mind. On the other hand, she also didn't have anyone to help bring her out of it until she met Andrea and then Rick's group. It scared her now to think of what could have been and what she'd have missed if she hadn't come around. She had previously shared with him that she would talk to her dead boyfriend as a way of comforting him and letting him know that he was not alone in his grief and that he would come back from it in time. In this moment, she felt the urge to comfort him again. A sympathetic nod or "I'm sorry" wouldn't be enough, she wanted to show him that everything could be OK, not just reassure him with those words that now seemed empty. She felt compelled to share the entire story with him as a way of letting him know that he wasn't alone and didn't need to continue to punishing and shaming himself for the past.

She gave him a slight frown to acknowledge what he had just said and buy herself time as she tried to gather the courage to tell him her story. She lost her nerve and decided to try to continue the light mood for as long as possible since she couldn't guarantee that they would have the luxury to do so tomorrow or the next day. "Oh, I don't know about that. I have so many burning questions, things that I've just been dying to know," she said in an exaggerated tone.

"Is that right?' he said wincing as he braced himself not knowing where on earth she was going with this.

She was quickly trying to come up with something that could make him laugh and take him off guard when she felt someone approaching them. She looked up to find Daryl who had just come in from outside. "You ready, Michonne? It's been quiet out there, hopefully you won't have any problems tonight."

She nodded and started to stand up. Daryl patted her arm, and added, "Holler if you need anything," as he walked way.

"I will. Thanks," she said in reply.

She grabbed her sword and shook out her legs which felt a bit numb and heavy after sitting for so long. Before leaving, she turned back to Rick. "Gotta go, but this doesn't mean you're off the hook. To be continued?"

"Yep," he nodded in confirmation. He watched her walk towards the front of the church with a grin on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Michonne followed Carl and Judith back into the church after saying good bye to Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Glenn, Maggie, and Tara who were on their way to Washington, DC. Carl went to the front of the church and gently placed Judith in the basket that served as her makeshift crib. He dug through his small, dirty napsack, pulled out a book, then sat down on the pew next to Judith's basket and began reading. Sasha had retreated to the back of the church where she was laying on a pew staring up at the ceiling. Father Gabriel went back into his office and shut the door. Tyreese was outside digging the graves for Bob and the members of Gareth's group that they had killed the night before. Rick never made his way back into the church, so she assumed he had stayed behind to help him.

The room was completely silent which would normally be welcome as she enjoyed quiet mornings, but the silence this morning did not provide peace and calm. As she stood in the aisle in the center of the now almost empty church, the sun light streaming through the windows only magnified the pain of the last 24 hours. She had no choice now, but to look at the blood stain on the floor in front of her in the spot where Rick had killed Gareth last night. It was the same spot where the group gathered around Bob and learned of his certain death sentence from a walker bite just a few hours before. She had no regrets about the killings that she participated in last night, the only regrets she had were over the loss of Bob and fracturing of the group that had only just come back together. She tore her eyes away from the blood stained floor and looked up at Carl and Judith. The brother and sister had been inseparable the past few days since their reunion, and as she looked at them it broke her heart to see them in this in this somber room.

She made her way up to the the front pew and sat down next to Carl. She placed her hand on his knee, squeezed lightly, and quietly said, "Hey."

"Hey," he replied in monotone not looking up from his book.

"You wanna get out of here?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sadly replied looking up at her.

She smiled, "Me too. Why don't you gather up a few supplies, then meet me outside with your sister. I'll let your dad know."

Carl nodded at her, then stood up and started to get ready. Michonne walked out of the church and onto the steps where she spotted Rick and Tyreese finishing up at the grave site. She walked towards them squinting and shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her hand. When Rick saw her approaching, he stuck his shovel in the ground and started making his way over to meet her halfway, wiping his dirty hands on his shirt as he walked.

"If it's OK with you, I was going to take Carl and Judith out for a walk. Get them out of that place for a while," she said as she motioned back towards the church with her hand.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Just be careful out there," he answered.

"Always am. You should come with us, though."

He looked around the area avoiding her face, then looked down to the ground and shook his head, "Nah, I need to stay here, take care of stuff."

"Like what? We eliminated the immediate threat last night and we've got enough supplies for the next few days. Now all we can do now is sit here and wait for Carol and Daryl to come back before we can move on. There's nothing else you should be doing right now other than this," she said staring intensely at him.

He was still looking at the ground, then looked up past her to see his son carrying his daughter toward them. He sighed, and looked at her, "You're right. You're absolutely right."

The foursome walked through the woods until they came to a small clearing where the sun was peeking through. It seemed like a good enough place to stop, so they spread a blanket on the ground and settled in. Carl took a pad of paper and pencils he had found in the church office and sat on a nearby tree stump so that he could sketch. Rick and Michonne sat cross-legged at opposite ends of the blanket while Judith crawled back and forth between the two of them favoring whoever entertained her the most at the moment. It was mostly quiet save for their occasional giggles and the sounds of birds chirping. It was gorgeous day worthy of a picnic or ball game, but their mood was subdued as took in the fresh air and recovered from the previous day.

Finally tired of the back and forth, Judith settled into Michonne's lap with her back up against her chest facing her father. Michonne felt the little girl grow heavier and still in her arms signaling she had probably drifted off to sleep. Afraid to move and disrupt her, Michonne quietly mouthed to Rick, "She out?"

He smiled and nodded at Michonne taking in this beautiful moment. Just last night she was by his side while they took down the Terminus members, yet here she was with his sleeping child in her lap seemingly at peace with everything. She made the transition look effortless. She always seemed so self-assured in her decisions and he never questioned her morals or judgment. He contrasted that with the constant noise in his mind from running through his decisions over and over, sometimes thinking he'd gone too far, and other times wishing he had gone further.

Michonne had her head bent down towards Judith's when Rick's voice got her attention, "You'd tell me if you thought I was wrong, right?"

She looked him in the eye and her face softened," Of course I would. I'll always be honest with you. You don't always listen to me though..."

Legitimately surprised because he always respected her opinion, he shot back, "When?"

She smiled and ran her thumb and index finger over her chin as if she was stroking a beard. He laughed once we realized she was referring to the time she suggested he groom his beard which was now far more unruly than at that time.

"Seriously, though, how do you do it? How are you so at peace with all of this?" he asked.

"Who says I am? I went though a lot before I finally accepted how the world works now, but I still struggle with the things we have to do. It is a little easier, though, when you remind yourself why we do it," she said looking down at Judith and then over at Carl. In looking at the kids, she knew the exact reason she she seemed to be able to handle the brutality of the world with more ease. "Rick, I hope that you never get to the place where you can be more at peace with what we have to do."

He tilted his head to the side questioning what she meant without saying a word.

With the still sleeping Judith in her lap, she looked down and paused before starting, "I had a 3 year old son, and I lost him after the turn. I wasn't there for him and his father didn't fight for him like I would have." Rick's eyes were fixed on her with his mouth slightly agape as if someone had just knocked the wind out of him. Her voice faltered as she continued, "That's why I don't question you or what we have to do. I get it more than I wish I did, and I don't want you to ever have to."

Stunned by her revelation, he slid across the blanket to her side and wrapped his arm around her, pressing his lips to the side of her forehead. "Michonne, I'm so sorry," he whispered into her skin as he brought his head down to rest against hers. She wiped the tears that had built up in the corner of her eyes, then leaned into him allowing themselves the comfort of being close to one another.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is one last story before we move get to the mid-season premiere. I thought it would be a nice place to leave off until new inspiration comes. I really want to thank the people who commented on the story. I'm so happy you're enjoying these and am flattered by your kind words! My goal is to stay as true to the story line and tone of the show as possible while filling in some of the things we wish we could have seen. As the season goes along, inspiration will be welcome for new little talks, so please let me know what looks interesting to you!**

"He wants to go to Atlanta, but I can't have that."

Michonne stopped hammering and turned her full attention towards Rick, "Then you stay, I'll go."

"I owe it to Carol," he said trying to justify going.

"We all owe Carol."

"I owe her more," he said shaking his head and looking beyond her.

"You do what you need to do. I'll keep the kids safe," she said reassuringly.

"Oh I know that, I don't doubt that at all," he said as he returned his gaze towards her. Of all of the things he questioned, her ability to protect herself and her love for his children was not one of them.

She nodded once and said, "Then we're set," and returned her attention to the task at hand. He followed suit and continued boarding up the windows softly smiling to himself and shaking his head in disbelief at how easy she made that for him.

He decided to try his luck with the other issue at hand that had been consuming his thoughts all day, "So I gotta know, if I had taken you up on your offer to go, what would your plan have been?" he asked.

Without stopping what she was doing, she flippantly answered back, "I don't know, I was just gonna wing it."

"Bullshit," he shot back with a laugh in his voice.

She stopped what she was doing and turned toward him with a slight smile that faded and gave way to a serious countenance. "You know, given what Noah told us about how many people they have and how well armed they are, I think you're gonna have to use force. Go in when they least expect it, take out as many as you need to until you get Carol and Beth, then get the hell out of there."

"That's pretty aggressive, some innocent people could get hurt…" he countered.

Her eyes grew big with surprise and disappointment at what she just heard him say. She passionately made her case, "They kidnapped Carol and Beth and are holding them against their will along with others. Noah told us about the horrible things they're doing to the wards. These are not good, reasonable people no matter what they may try to tell you. They were the aggressors and we are only defending our own. Do not forget that when you are out there tomorrow, Rick."

He stood with his hands on his hips slowly nodding and not saying anything. She started to grow insecure with what he was thinking given how quiet he was. She looked down searching for something to say, and finally whispered, "If you don't think you can do it, I'll go…"

He immediately stepped into her personal space, placed both hands on her upper arms, and bent down to make eye contact with her. She lifted her head to follow his eyes. "No, no, no, no," he said softly while he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "I'm going, I've got this. I just wanted to hear what you thought. Make sure I was in the right."

She pushed back on his chest on his chest lightly with one hand, and lightly admonished him, "You scared me, my god."

He smiled, moving his hands beyond her arms to her back circling her in a hug, "No, _you_ scared me. It's like you're in my head. That's the plan. We're gonna do what we have to do."

"Just be careful. Get our people and come back safe," she said into his chest while still in his embrace.

"We will. Promise," he said has he rubbed her back then slowly stepped away. "All right, we should probably get going. You ready?"

"Ready. Let's do this," she said as they turned the corner to tell the others it was time.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm still in a Richonne daze after Sunday night. Such beautiful moments between the two of them. I questioned what I could even add to that. The most striking aspect of their communication is how much they convey without words. I feel like I should write a whole story of gazes, head tilts, grazing hands, and meaningful eye squints, but it wouldn't quite work out so well in this format. So here's my little addition to episode 5x9. Hope you enjoy. Is it Sunday yet?**

The group members from the prison days sat quietly around a small fire holding vigil just a few yards away from the site they had laid Tyreese to rest earlier that afternoon. Michonne and Carol flanked Sasha on a small log they had rolled up to the fire. Maggie and Glenn sat huddled together the the right of them. Daryl sat alone to their left, tending to the fire as needed. Rick was across from the ladies with Judith in his arms and Carl flush against his right side. Eugene, Tara, Rosita, Abraham, Father Gabriel, and Noah had already retired for the night to their respective vehicles which served as living quarters while the group was on the road. At this point, there were no words to be said. His death served no greater purpose, and therefore no comfort could be found in it, especially given it was the third death in the past few weeks for this group that was once safe and thriving in their prison. They sat there for hours, no one daring to leave. It was as if they thought they could change the outcome and avoid the finality of his death by not letting this day end.

Rick looked down at his watch which read 11:15 PM, then looked up at the drawn, sad faces of his dwindling group wishing that he could offer them some solace. His eyes stopped at Michonne; he searched her face looking for some clue as to how she was doing or what she was thinking. He'd never seen her the way he had earlier that day. When she spoke, her voice couldn't belie the emotion that was bubbling just under the surface threatening to spill over. She was always so steadfast and calm, but today he finally saw the strain. At Michonne's urging, he had agreed to continue on to Washington, DC, but he hadn't discussed it with the group yet. They had decided to put off making plans until the morning out of respect to Tyreese. He knew that it would be a strenuous journey, but one that would hopefully provide the chance for stability that Michonne and he so badly wanted for the group.

"It's getting late and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Why don't we try to get some rest? I know it won't be easy, but we could all use it," Rick said to the group. They nodded their heads and murmured in agreement all starting to get up and scatter with the exception of Michonne who stayed seated on the log. He caught her eye as he made his way to the her side of the fire with his children.

"Hey, you coming?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I'll head back soon. I just need a little more time," she answered in a quiet voice, almost apologetically. They hadn't had anytime to decompress since they returned to the group with Tyreese and she couldn't imagine that sleep would come easy tonight.

He nodded in understanding. "Carl, why don't you take Judy back to the van and get settled in. I'll be over in a few minutes," he said as he passed Judith off to his son.

"OK," he said accepting the baby in his left arm and resting her on his hip. He turned, bent down towards Michonne, and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders in an embrace, "Good night, Michonne."

She tightened her grip on him and patted his back, "Good night, bud." He released her and pulled away slightly, then Michonne braced her hand on the side of Judith's face and kissed the top of her head, "Good night, baby girl. Sleep tight. I'll see you both tomorrow morning."

Carl smiled and looked back at his dad, then starting making his way back to the car. Rick stood and watched until they were safely inside, then turned his attention toward Michonne, and took a seat next to her on the log. She had brought her knees up to her chest propped her elbows on them so that she could rest her head in her hands.

"What a fucking nightmare," she said turning her head to look at him.

He sighed, and placed his hand at the base of her neck, gently kneading his fingers over the tense muscles and knots in her upper back. "I know. And I'm sorry for the things you had to see and do today," he said as he thought of her amputating Tyreese's arm, helping carry him through the woods, and ultimately taking responsibility for keeping him from turning. He knew she could handle almost anything because she was, without a doubt, one of the strongest people he'd ever known, but he worried about what toll it had taken since she was already feeling so low.

She shook her head sadly, "Yeah, I don't ever want to go through that again. I don't want any of us to...I'll do whatever needs to be done, but I...I just keep hoping each time is the last time. I thought we were going to make it today, I really thought this could be it. I was so ready to stop." He noticed that her voice was shaky again. It hurt him to see her this way and know that he couldn't guarantee a different life for them.

"Michonne, I'm not sure if Washington is the answer, but I do want more for us than this. We won't stop trying, I promise," he said as he looked her in the eye, not breaking contact like he had done so often before.

She smiled and placed her hand on his knee, "That's all I need to know." He pulled her closer to him and tenderly placed a kiss on her temple. They exhaled and looked at each other, reaffirming their commitment to moving on without words.

"You should get back to Carl and Judy, they need you tonight," she said.

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were OK too," he said.

"I will be," she said.

He gave her upper back one last squeeze, then stood up from the log. He turned toward her and offered his hand to help her up.

"Just need a little more time," she said softly declining his gesture. He nodded understanding her need for space, and turned to walk away.

Once she couldn't hear his foot steps anymore, she allowed her head to sink back into her hands. Tears started to fall out of her eyes as she let go for the first time that day. She cried for the loss of Tyreese and Noah's devastation, but also for herself. She let out the disappointment and fear so that she could start again tomorrow with renewed hope for the future.


	5. Chapter 5

**So this is going to be the littlest little talk ever which is probably apropos for episode 5x10 since it wasn't the Rick and Michonne gold mine that the premiere was. A talk in the barn would probably have been the more obvious choice, but I wanted to do something a little bit different. As always, thanks for reading and thank you for the feedback! **

His eyes were fixed on Michonne as she stood on the side of the road facing off with Sasha. Sasha was on edge, and for a moment, he thought she was going to charge Michonne. He knew she could hold her own, but he was on guard if she needed him. Sasha backed down and walked away without a fight, and he mused that was a wise decision on her part because she wouldn't want to deal with the consequences of pissing Michonne off again. Her behavior may have come off as harsh, but he knew that it was for the purpose of protecting Sasha and the rest of the group.

He continued watching Michonne as she stood tall with her shoulders squared in the middle of the road. Her face was even and calm, with her deep breathing being the only clue that she was still agitated. She was so damn impressive to him. She had always been smart and capable, but lately she was a force. She was on a mission to find safety and she was relentless in her fight, meeting all of the physical and mental demands of the road. He wanted to acknowledge what he had just seen her do, but couldn't find the right thing to say. "Good work" would sound patronizing as if he didn't expect her to take initiative and handle the situation on her own. "Thank you" wouldn't do either because she didn't do that for him, she was just doing what needed to be done to prevent the situation from going terribly wrong.

She turned and made her way over to Rick. "You OK?" she asked circling him, visually scanning for scratches or bites.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Daryl got the walker before he got to me."

"Good," she said with relief. She then wasted no time adding, "We need to get going again."

Rick looked at her, then up at the rest of the group who had been waiting for them beyond the bridge. He knew everyone was running on empty, but there was no choice other than to move on in hope of finding water and walked over toward the group and started up again with Rick taking the lead in the front.

Michonne walked along side of him for a few feet before starting to break away. "I'm gonna head to the back of the group again," she said excusing herself. She had taken it upon herself to stay in the back so that she could remain vigilant and watch over the other group members, particularly those who were grieving and distracted.

Rick appreciated what she was doing, but was disappointed to lose her company so quickly. He turned to survey the rest of the group and saw Glenn in the rear which put him at ease. He reached out and caught Michonne's arm causing her to turn around toward him.

"Hey," he said with a slight smile, "stay a little while. They'll be OK."

She turned her head to check the back one more time, then returned to his right side giving him a quick smile and glance out of the corner of her eye before focusing on the road again. There would be no laughing and joking today, but at least they could enjoy a little time together.


	6. Chapter 6

**You guys, there were like no blanks to fill in this week. The talks were all right there, out in the open. So amazing. Thanks for the comments and thanks for reading! I am so inspired by this second half of the season!**

Michonne shifted on the hard floor of the supply room trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Nearly everything ached: her ribs and abdomen from where Aaron opened the car door into her, her tailbone from hitting the asphalt, and her arms from absorbing the shock of the fall. Honestly, she'd been hurt worse before, and the possibility that this may be her last night sleeping in less than ideal settings was enough to get her through this sleepless night.

She gave up trying to re-position herself and finally sat up. Everyone else was scattered around her sleeping peacefully except for Rick who was sitting with his back against the wall opposite her cradling Judith in his arms. His eyes were already on her and he looked absolutely miserable. She got up and made her way over, taking a seat up against the wall right next to him.

"You've been tossing and turning all night," he whispered trying not to wake Judith and those around them.

"Yeah, just couldn't get comfortable. You're not sleeping either," she answered back in a hushed voice.

"I can't."

"Did you even try?" she asked.

He just shook his head no in response and looked straight ahead. She already knew what his answer would be. He had agreed to going to Alexandria, and then again to staying in the same room as Aaron and Eric that night. He had compromised so much at this point that keeping watch was the only way he felt like he had any control over this situation. Even though she knew that she had to keep pushing him forward for the possibility of safety and stability, she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty that she played a part in him feeling so scared and unsure.

"I know you're probably tired of me running my mouth today, but I was thinking about what you said about Woodbury and Terminus earlier," she started, treading lightly.

He turned his head toward her and she thought she could see the corners of his lips turn upward ever so slightly at her self-deprecation, so she continued on, "When I met the Governor, I knew he was a fraud. Same with Terminus, you knew within minutes. We can trust our instincts, but we have to see this place before we can pass judgment." He stayed quiet and nodded in agreement.

"I had to make the same call about the prison," she said causing him to turn his head and her give her his full attention. "I know the stakes weren't as high because it was just me, but I still had to take the chance and see what it was all about." She paused for a second as she recalled the moment. "A few minutes after you brought me into the cell block, Daryl called you all over to see something. It was Carol. I didn't know what happened, but I could tell it was a reunion. I remember you both had tears in your eyes when you saw each other. I could tell how much it meant to you and the group that she was back. I knew at that moment that you were good people, and that what you had at the prison was real...this one definitely tipped the scales in your favor, too " she said smiling and looking down at the sleeping baby.

He smiled and placed a kiss on top of Judith's head. "I didn't know you saw that," he said.

"I did."

"That day, I grabbed your leg in the spot you got shot..." he said incredulously.

The tone of his voice and the fact that this detracted from what was supposed to be an encouraging story caused a grin to spread across her face. "Yeah...I kinda left that part out, huh? You made a mostly good impression, I guess." A true smile spread across his face for the first time that day.

"Did I every say sorry for that?" he asked.

"Not in so many words, no..." she said smiling. They were in such a different place now, it was hard for her to believe there was a time when they had so little trust between them.

He reached over and lightly patted the outer left side of her thigh where the wound had been, "Well, I'm sorry for that."

She placed her hand on top of his and gave it a quick squeeze. "We're good. You've more than made up for it." He surprised her when he didn't withdraw it immediately. They sat quietly with their hands clasped and resting her leg for a few minutes. She periodically looked over to check on him, and his eyes stayed cast over the room. She could feel her eyes growing heavy, but she didn't want to move.

"Aaron's boyfriend brought him a license plate," he said quietly out of the blue.

"Hmm?" Michonne asked groggily.

"When I went to check on them earlier, I saw him give Aaron a license plate he had picked up on the road for him."

"So he was telling the truth. Again," she said softly not wanting to rub it in, but rather point out another reason to trust him. "That's actually really sweet," she added.

"Yeah, it reminded me of how you used to bring Carl and me things you found on your runs," he said looking down at her with a slight grin. She met his eyes and smiled back and nodded. She was touched that he thought fondly of those days, but more than that, she hoped that it was his way of acknowledging the parallels. These are things that good people do, that family does for each other. If that moment helped him feel any more at ease with what they were doing, he would take it. She gripped his hand a little tighter then stifled a yawn.

"I don't wanna keep you up. Get to sleep, we only have a couple of hours before sun up," he said reaching to his opposite side to grab one of Judith's spare blankets. "Here," he said handing it to her. "See if you can use this to make it a little more comfortable."

She reflexively wanted to decline the offer, but caught herself before doing so. For all of the times he had given into her today, she decided not to put up a fight, so she accepted the blanket and rolled it out on the floor, then curled up on her side facing him. "It's better, thank you."

He looked down and smiled at her happy that he could help, "Night Michonne."

"Good night, Rick."


	7. Chapter 7

**Been on vacation for the past week, so I'm sneaking in a short little update prior to tonight's episode. I figured it was better than nothing at all. I got so many great comments on the last chapter, and I really appreciate them. I'm so happy you like the concept of this series! I do my best to build only on what's been presented in the episodes, but I've strayed here and there. The reference to Michonne's previous profession in this installment calls back to my first chapter and not the show, obviously, but I'm assuming Rick has a clue at this point even though the audience doesn't know. Will aim for a longer installment next week, so hopefully there will be some good inspiration tonight!**

**Also, for those reading Needs and Wants, not sure if I'm going to continue with that series. I ran out of time and never got ahead of the episodes like I wanted to. Tonight's episode will largely inform whether I write another chapter or not...**

The crowd had finally cleared after all the commotion, and Rick and Michonne were left standing alone by the gates watching everyone make their way back to their houses. Rick specifically kept his eyes on Carl until he had reached the steps of their new house before looking over at Michonne whose smile had faded into a blank expression.

"I signed the papers," he said looking for her approval of his move.

"Yes, you did," she said nodding. "Why?"

"Why?" he asked emphatically as he recoiled his head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, what finally pushed you over the edge?"

"Carl. He said he liked it here. You have a good feeling about the place. I can tell some of the others want to be here, too. Plus we can handle ourselves if we need to," he said matter of factly.

"And you? Do you like it here?" she asked gently.

He didn't answer, he just took in a deep breath and exhaled, avoiding her eyes.

"It's OK. You may not know the answer to that for a while. After everything you've been through and have done for the others, though, you have to know that you deserve this too."

He still avoided her gaze and nodded silently. She was used to this sort of response from him. He wasn't one to say what he didn't mean as long as she'd known him, and she respected him for that.

He finally looked up at her, changing the subject, "So you happy about your new job?"

"Yeah, I am," she said with a shy grin. "I never imagined being a constable, but I'm up for the challenge."

"It suites you. You know the law. You're smart, tough, fair...shit, you'll probably be better at it than me," he said with a chuckle.

She blushed slightly and shook her head as she playfully nudged his shoulder with hers. "So I guess you're gonna be my boss?" she asked.

He instantly let out a laugh at her question. "Can someone even be the boss of you?" he asked once his laugh finally trailed off. The thought of this woman needing someone to supervise her or even her tolerating it was a joke to him. "Partners. We're partners."

She gave him a big smile. "That works for me."


	8. Chapter 8

**My thoughts Sunday night: WTF am I going to do with this? Since Rick's behavior and the episode were a departure from the norm, I'm going to take liberties with my usual style as well...**

Michonne curled up in the large plaid chair by the living room window with a throw blanket wrapped around her, a cup of hot tea, and a book. She lasted exactly 48 minutes at the party, and this was her reward for making it that long. She swapped out her dress for a pair of grey sweats and a snug long sleeve white v-neck t-shirt she had found in her room. Her locks were swept up into a ponytail giving her easy access to her neck where she frequently placed her hand on to knead out the tension.

The last time she had been alone was just after the fall of the prison, but since she reunited with Rick and Carl she had never had a moment to herself and she preferred it that way. Tonight, however, being around people made her feel lonely in a way she hadn't for a long time so she welcomed the solitude. It reminded her of those rare nights she had to herself in her old condo when when Mike would take Andre out for the evening. She'd settle into a chair next to her large window overlooking Midtown Atlanta with a glass of wine either working on a brief or just reading a book like she was tonight. It recharged her, and that's what she hoped this would do for her as well. Today had not been a good day. Even though she had a mostly good feeling about the community and wanted to make it work, the transition was proving to be harder than she expected. Everything she did felt like she was forcing a fit from donning her uniform then a dress to mingling at a cocktail party.

She heard a key in the door, and in walked Carl holding Judith with Rick trailing behind. As he turned to lock up behind them, she noticed him sway slightly then brace his hand on the door frame pausing for a few seconds before turning around to walk up the stairs. He caught sight of her as he turned and gave her a slight nod. She noticed his forehead glistened with sweat and his eyes seemed lax and unfocused. She returned his nod with one of her own and went back to her book.

When she entered the party earlier that evening, she saw him across the room with what looked to be a glass or bourbon or scotch in hand smiling while talking to some of the town people. She had already had the pleasant surprise of seeing him cleaned up for the first time ever the previous day, but she was taken aback by his appearance once again. With a slight return of stubble, his white button down with the sleeves rolled to where they showed off his tan, muscular forearms, and the smile on his face, she couldn't believe that her handsome friend could look any better. She was pleased that by all appearances, he seemed to be making the best of the evening even though she knew he was still skeptical. As for herself, a few days ago she would have imagined being by his side with a drink enjoying the old and new company. Instead, she remained on the periphery given her mood and discomfort.

He followed Carl and Judith upstairs, and she could hear foot steps, the running of water, and closing of doors that signaled they were getting ready for bed. Within a few minutes, there was complete silence that was then interrupted by someone coming down the stairs.

"You didn't go to the party," Rick said hoarsely as he made his way over to her, stopping a few feet in front of her chair with his hands on his hips.

She took a second to finish the sentence she was reading, then closed her book and looked up at him. "I went, I just didn't stay long. I wasn't feeling it tonight," she answered quietly.

"Well, I thought you wanted to be here," he said with a lightly challenging tone in his voice. He wavered slightly as he stood and she picked up on the faint smell of liquor on his breath when he spoke.

She tilted her head and stared at him for a second, then replied, "I do and I'm trying. It's not easy, though...for any of us."

He grunted and nodded his head. It was clear to her that he'd had too much to drink, but something in his demeanor was off. She'd felt him pulling away a bit over the past day, but chalked it up to the transition because god knows she was feeling it, as well.

"Rick, are you OK?" she asked softly.

"Oh yeah, I'm good," he shot back.

"Mmm..." she answered not quite buying it. "Look, I know we have different feelings about this place, but you don't have to tell me what you think I want to hear. Just be honest with me."

He broke eye contact and turned his head to the left, looking out the window. It was clear to her that he was agitated and nothing she was saying seemed to deescalate the situation, so she calmly stood up, folded the throw blanket and draped it across the chair, then walked over to the kitchen to place her empty mug in the sink. As she exited the kitchen, she had to pass by him to get to the staircase. He was still in the spot she left him in, only now he was completely turned looking out the window. Once she made it to the first step, she called back over her shoulder, "There's some aspirin in the upstairs bathroom. You're probably going to need it."

He cursed under his breath, then turned and called out after her, "Michonne." There was a softness in his voice that he'd yet to have tonight.

She turned on the step she was on to face him. He was looking directly at her, but said nothing. She raised her eyebrows to question why he stopped her, but he only continued to look at her, opening, then closing his mouth stopping short of saying anything.

She shook her head and sighed with resignation, "I'm exhausted, Rick. I'll see you tomorrow." She headed up the stairs to her room where she turned down the bed and was about to get in when she heard a knock at the door.

"What?" she snapped assuming it was Rick coming to continue the conversation.

"Michonne?" an unexpected voice called out. She turned to the doorway to see Carl standing there in his pajamas.

Her face softened instantly, "Hey, I'm sorry about that. Did we wake you up?"

"No, I was still awake. I just wanted to say hi." She motioned him into her room and sat on the edge of her bed where he joined her.

"I saw you at the party. Looks like you were having a good time with your new friends," she said smiling.

"Yeah, they're actually pretty cool," he said with an excitement in his voice that she loved hearing.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. They have tons of comics and video games. They've been really nice, too. They know this is all new for me and they've been helping me get used to it."

"They do sound nice. I'm really happy you're liking it here," she said smiling.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said without elaboration. It wasn't lost on him that she gave an unenthusiastic, one word response like his father when he had asked him the same question.

"I saw you at the party when you first came, but then you disappeared. I tried to find you to introduce you to my friends. They all saw you with your sword the day we came and they've been wanting to meet the _samurai lady_," he said with a proud smile.

"Oh God. Don't lie," she said.

"I swear! They can't believe I'm friends with you!"

"Well, I'd love to meet your friends. You say when and I'm there," she said with a grin.

"Cool," he said looking satisfied. "We're still good, right?" he added on.

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be?" she asked.

"I don't know...everything is just so different. Like it's better here, but it's weird. I feel like I don't see you as much."

"Carl, we will _always_ be good. No matter what happens, I'm here for you. Judith too. This is a change, a big one, and you're right, it's weird. Like totally weird," she said with emphasis. He chuckled at her. The way she toed the line between grown up and peer always made it easy for him to relate to her. "But we'll settle in. We'll figure it out like we always do," she said smiling.

He looked up at her and nodded, then reached over for a hug which she gladly accepted. After they let go, she looked down at him, "So we're good."

"We're good," he affirmed as he stood up. "So maybe tomorrow afternoon, my friends can come over?"

"Yep, but you're gonna owe me for this...you know what I like," she teased.

"Oh, I know," he said. "I've got some comics with your name on it."

"Good man," she said with a chuckle as she watched him leave her room.

**I'm sorry for the angst! They made me do it! I have to stay faithful to the source. Things are off with Rick and Michonne right now, but hopefully Grimes the Younger redeemed the family name. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, what a rough couple of episodes, but finally we got our pay off. I'm so looking forward to season 6, hopefully the momentum continues to build despite Jessie's presence. Here's my final installment for season 5. It's light on the Rick because I didn't see many opportunities to fit in interactions that we didn't see, so I'm resorting to my other favorite Grimes boy again in this one. Hope you enjoy it!**

Michonne sat in the corner of a room in an unfinished townhouse studying Rick's face while he slept, as if she could read his mind and figure out what was going on in there if she stared long and hard enough. She was concerned, but more relieved that he hadn't woken up since she knocked him out a few hours prior because she wasn't sure exactly what she'd say to say to him once he did. Things had been off between them for the past few days, but she wasn't aware of how far off they were until she came upon him bloodied, ranting, and waving a stolen gun at the community members in the middle of the street. She could get over the initial embarrassment and anger of finding out that her friend and co-constable had left her out of the loop on the abuse situation and even stealing the guns, but she couldn't get past this feeling of hurt and betrayal. Although they could both be people of few words, there was never a lack of communication between them. Even if it was just by way of a look or a nod, there was a regard for the other person's opinion, even though those opinions could certainly differ. Willfully deceiving her, no matter what reason he may have had, was never something she expected him to do.

A soft knock at the door startled her and she made her way over to see who it was. Peeking through the sheet serving as a makeshift curtain, she met eyes with Carl. She cracked the door and peeked her head out, "Hey."

"Hey, I just wanted to stop by to see how dad's doing."

"He's still sleeping, but he's going to be fine. Not much to do but wait," she said trying to reassure him.

"Well, can I come in? I just wanna see him."

"Carl..." she said trying to gently dissuade him from coming in.

"I've already seen the worst part, you know." She did know that, so cracked the door wider and let him slip past her. The kid was right, there was nothing to protect him or Rick from at this point.

Carl cautiously walked around the mattress until he was on the other side and able to visualize his father's face. Michonne trailed behind him watching his expression the entire time. She saw a small smile tug at his lips which surprised her.

"He looks pretty good. With all of that blood, I expected it to be a lot worse," he mused with the slight smile still present. She regarded the face she'd been looking at all night and had to agree that he looked great for a man who'd crashed through a glass window and taken a pretty good beating. She let out a small huff of a laugh and nodded at Carl in agreement. If the kid could find any positive point in this situation, she'd let him have it. He deserved at least that. He walked over to the wall across from his father's bed and slid down until he was seated with his back against it. She walked over and joined him since it seemed he was there to stay for a while.

"You all right?" Carl asked.

"Me?" Michonne said incredulously.

"Yeah. Are you upset?"

"Carl...it's not about...don't worry about me. I'm fine. What about you?"

"I'm OK."

"Really? You don't have to be."

Carl sighed and paused for a second before speaking. "I just...I just worry about what's going to happen. Dad was right that we're going to have to fight to defend this place, but he just looked so...crazy. They're not going to listen to him like that. I was relieved you stopped him when you did."

"I'm glad you understand why I did that."

"I knew you were just trying to protect us by making it stop. I tried too, but it didn't work." He hung his head a little lower and she realized that perhaps the worst part of the entire experience today was the feeling that he couldn't get through to his father, that he didn't know who exactly he was in that moment. She empathized with him because she realized that the reason she was so hurt was because she felt the same way. The fact that Rick had purposely kept things from her felt like a smack in the face. She thought he considered her his partner and valued their trust and honesty as much as she did, but his actions had made her question that. It's a scary thing when you think you know someone to the core and find out you may have been wrong.

"Carl, you can't take that personally. I'm not sure what's going on in his head right now, but he's your father and he cares about you more than anything. You have to know that. He is a good man and he will always try to do right for you and the group. I think...I think he's just a little lost right now," she said trying to reassure Carl and herself in some way.

"I know you're right. It's just a little scary."

"I know, but we'll figure this out. I've told you this before, but I promise, we're going to settle in and make this work," she said as she placed her hand on his shoulder for a quick comforting squeeze. "So what do you want from this place? What is your ideal situation?"

"I want to stay here. I like having a house and a bed to sleep in every night. I like having friends and getting to do fun things sometimes instead of constantly worrying about walkers and dangerous people. I need to have my family close and know that they're safe and taken care of. I loved the prison, and I wish we could have stayed there forever. This is the first time that I feel like we can get that back, and I think it's worth fighting for. I know we can't forget about all of the danger out there, but I think that we can try to enjoy life here without being oblivious. We can help these people get stronger. I think it's worth it."

Carl had a way of affecting her more than anyone else, but this hit Michonne harder than she expected. Whatever was going on with her or Rick or the group didn't matter as much as this did. She had been sleeping and this was what she needed to wake her up. She used both hands to wipe the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes, then turned to Carl. "God, how old are you?"

"Forty-seven," he replied with a grin.

"Yeah, that's what I thought talking that way," she said laughing through her tears. "I want that for you and for us, too."

"Can you talk to my dad? Tell him how we feel?"

"I can, but I think you should tell him how you feel. It matters to him, I know it does." He looked at her skeptically. "It does, Carl. For as much as we want you to be able to be a kid again, you and I both know it just isn't like that anymore. I want you to have as much fun as possible and let us carry the burden of what we have to do, but you can't unsee the things you've seen or undo the things you've had to do. You were forced to mature beyond your years because of your experiences, and it wouldn't be fair to you to ignore your opinions based on those experiences. You've earned the right to speak up, and I think you should. You can talk to your dad."

He sat quietly looking as his father, taking in what she had told him. "I will," he said confidently.

A wide smile broke across her face, and she kissed the top of his head. "I'm so damn proud of you. I see everything you do, and I'm so impressed with you everyday." He sheepishly nodded and mumbled thanks. She sighed and looked at her watch. "It's getting pretty late, and I'm not sure how much longer he's going to be out. Why don't you head home? I'll keep watch over him."

"OK, but will you come get me as soon as he wakes up?"

"Of course, you'll be the first to know," she said. With that, he got up and left leaving her alone with her thoughts again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rewatching old episodes inspired me to go back and write some Little Talks for previous seasons since I only started writing fic in the latter half of season 5 and missed out on the early stages of Rick and Michonne's relationship. I've missed doing this series, so I thought I would take a break from Into Dawn for a quick update. Hope you enjoy!  
**  
**Season 4, Between ****_30 Days Without an Accident_**** and ****_Infected_**_  
_  
_You came back. Your boy came back. You get to come back. You do._

As Rick laid in his cell, Judith sleeping in her crib at the foot of his bunk, those words played on an endless loop in his mind. He never really found peace anymore, but Hershel's talks generally provided him enough comfort and encouragement to be able to make it through another day or, in this case, hopefully quiet his mind enough so that he could rest and make it to the next day. He got up and paced in his cell for a bit, then made his way out to the common area which was deserted given the late hour. He looked in on Carl's cell where he was sound asleep, then kept walking down the line until he reached hers. He could see the dim glow of a candle burning through the curtain that hung across the entrance to her cell, and he could see her bare feet moving across the room in the gap left between the curtain and the floor. The movement stopped abruptly however, and before he knew it, she appeared from behind curtain and was staring back at him.

"You need something?" she whispered, looking at him then out to the common area to see if there was a matter that needed her attention.

"Yeah...but it can wait," he whispered back feeling caught off guard by her discovery of him.

"Well I'm awake, so it doesn't have to," she said softly noticing his shiftiness. They'd no doubt grown closer over the past few months, but there was still an awkwardness to their interactions. Familiarity and friendliness ebbed and flowed between them, likely because of her frequent absences which always made it feel like they were starting over a bit with each other when she came back.

He looked into her room seeing a nap sack on the bed, making it clear to him that she was in the middle of packing for her next trip outside the prison despite his and Daryl's protestations earlier that day.

He waved his hand in the direction of her bag. "You're headin' out to Macon?"

"Yeah. I'm leaving in the morning. Just trying to get the last of my things together so I can get to sleep. You mind if I pack while we talk?"

He shook his head no and followed her into her cell, leaning himself against the small desk in her room while she picked up where she'd left off. He looked around her cell for a moment, noticing the small decorative touches like the colorful bed linens and cat sculpture in the corner which, compared to his cell, made it seem like she was more at home in the prison than him ironically enough. He cleared his throat, and reached into his back pocket to pull out a folded scrap of paper.

"So I, uh, was wondering if you wouldn't mind picking these up for me while you're out," he said as he extended the paper toward her. She took it from his hand, unfolded it, and read down the list. "Just a few supplies Hershel recommended for the garden," he added on.

"You need these right away? If so, you may want to ask the run crew because I think this is gonna be a long one."

"How long you think?" he asked knowing full well he probably wouldn't like the answer since any time away at this point seemed like an unnecessary risk to him given her previous unsuccessful attempts at finding the governor.

"Three, maybe four weeks?"

"Right..." he said trying to stay neutral and hide his disapproval. "It's not rush on the supplies, so I'd appreciate whatever you can do." She nodded, folded the list back up, and placed it in the back pocket of her jeans.

"Anything else I can get for you or the kids?"

"Nah, nothing that I can think of. Although I bet Carl would beg to differ."

Michonne couldn't help but chuckle. "Your kid has a standing order in place, you know..."

"Is that right? Let me guess. Comics and candy bars."

"Basically, yeah," she said with a smile. She zipped up the bag and placed it on the floor, then took a seat on the edge of her bed facing Rick. "If you're not OK with it, just let me know."

"Please. Maybe before all this I'd be worried about spoilin' him, but I'm trying my damnedest to just let him be a kid."

"Looks like it's working," she offered seeing that he could use some reinforcement. "He seems pretty happy to me lately. Has a smile on his face more often than not."

"Ehh," Rick hemmed. "I don't think he's too thrilled being the farmer's son, but he's gonna have to learn to like it."

"I'm sure he likes it more than he's letting on. He's your kid. It's his job to give you a hard time and vise versa." Rick sighed in resignation and looked out of the cell, unconsciously bringing his left hand up to his face to scratch his beard. It was the second round of encouragement he'd gotten that night, and as much as he wanted to to take it, he just couldn't let himself. When he turned to look back at her, he could tell that her eyes hadn't left him the whole time which caused him give her a small self-conscious grin.

"Heard you guys had a rough run today," he said shifting the focus onto her by acknowledging the trouble they'd had at the Big Spot earlier.

"Yeah...we did," she said unmoved as she looked down at her hands and started fiddling with the wristband on her gloves.

"You know, there's no reason you have to head out tomorrow. You can take a day off or two..."

She looked up at him, appreciative for the concern, but unwilling to change her mind. "I'm leaving in the morning," she reiterated.

He just nodded and stood from his spot against the desk. He didn't like it, but he respected her enough not to argue with her. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. Good night then," he said before he started to walk out of her cell.

"Night," she said still sitting on her bed as she watched him from behind. He stopped at the threshold and raised his hand to the bars, hitting it softly twice with an open palm as if he'd forgotten something before turning around.

"Gummy bears," he said pointing at her. She tilted her head to the side and knitted her brows. "Add it to the list," he clarified.

"Got it," she said as a smile formed on her face. He nodded in appreciation and she watched as he left her cell for good this time. Rick Grimes had a weakness for gummy bears. Who would have known she thought to herself.

xxxxx

"Careful out there," he called out to Michonne as he and Carl walked out to the garden to start their daily chores the next morning.

"Always am," she assured him as she led her horse to the path leading to the prison gates. " Any requests? Books? Comics? Some stale M&amp;Ms?" she directed at Carl.

"You're the one that likes stale M&amp;Ms," the boy teased as she walked by him. Rick listened in on their exchange, amused by their friendly banter.

"Then I'll definitely looking for some. I'll look for some stuff you like, too," she teased right back. Michonne kept on towards the gate before adding, "Why don't you wear your hat anymore?"

It dawned on her that it had been 2 days in a row that she'd seen Carl without his ever present sheriff's hat which had to be for good reason.

"It's not a farming hat," he said cheerfully without hesitation. A small smile started to form on Rick's face at those words. He didn't even have to look at her to know that more than satisfying her curiosity, she was making sure that he wasn't missing the signs that were right in front of him.

"See you soon?" Carl called out hopefully.

"Pretty soon," she said with a smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank God the hiatus is over! I'm so excited to see the new material play out on screen and for the inspiration it will bring to the writers in our fic community.**

**So just a reminder since it's been in a while or if you're reading this series for the first time, this series is my take on little moments from the episodes that we wished we'd seen or wanted to be expanded upon or needed a fix or explanation for. I try to stay as close to canon as possible, so I just make do with what they give me. Hope you enjoy!**

**6x1: First Time Again**

"So you're basically treating them like cows? Or sheep?" Carl asked from his spot at the kitchen island where he was standing with his hands braced on the granite counter top watching his father finish up his meal of leftovers from yesterday's dinner. Family dinners had gone by the way side this week, so Carol and the kids had already eaten by the time Rick and Michonne came in from their duties.

"Pretty much. A herd's a herd," Rick said between bites.

He had Judith balanced on his left knee with an arm slung around her belly while he scraped up the last bite of rice and canned vegetables from his bowl with his free hand.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?"

"Never."

Michonne smiled to herself, listening in on the surreal father-son conversation occurring behind her as she rooted through the cabinet trying to find the box of chai tea she knew she'd seen a few weeks ago.

"Damn. And to think I just went along with the plan because it sounded legit coming from a man in cowboy boots," she teased, glancing over her shoulder to find Carl grinning at her attempt at a joke while his father did something more like grimacing.

"You sure you don't need any help?" Carl asked his father.

"I'm sure. I need you here, lookin' out for your sister and helpin' Carol with anything she needs."

"OK." He relented more readily than his father expected. "You mind if I head out for a bit?"

"Where you off to?"

"Just gonna see what Mikey, and maybe Enid, are up to."

"What about Sam and Ron?"

"They haven't been out much."

Rick nodded thoughtfully, part of him hoping to hear that the boys had started to return to normalcy, but knowing it was wishful thinking.

"Go ahead. Just be back before dark."

Michonne found the tea and turned in time to see Carl heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She watched until he hit the landing then met eyes with Rick who had looked away from Carl and back to her at the same moment.

"He seems to be doing OK with all of this." It was almost more of a question than a statement.

"Yeah," she said a bit unconvincingly for Rick's liking as she pulled out a tea bag and turned to place the box back in the cabinet.

"Unless he's said anything to you otherwise..." Rick said moving his head to catch her eye as she turned back around.

She shook her head in confirmation then went about her business of filling up the tea kettle with water, stopping to ask if she should heat up extra water for him which he declined. As he watched her move around the kitchen, he found his left knee bouncing up and down with nervous energy which his daughter seemed to appreciate as she enjoyed the ride. It had been a tense, busy few days that came on the tail end of a strange few days of distance between Michonne and him, and despite her constant presence and support, something still felt a little off between them. When not talking shop, he found himself unsure of how to fill the space between.

"You havin' second thoughts about the plan?"

She turned on her heel after placing the kettle on the burner, a genuine look of confusion on her face.

"No, what would make you think that?"

"What you said just now."

"That was..." she trailed off, chuckling softly as she shook her head. "I was _joking_. We used to do that time to time, remember?"

He parted his lips to respond, but tilted his head and grinned sheepishly instead. She walked over to the island opposite him, leaning over to rest her elbows on the counter then made eyes at Judith and extended her hand to let the baby playfully grasp it. After a moment, she looked back up at Rick who had been wearing the same pinched expression all evening.

"I speak up when I'm concerned. I'm pretty sure I did several times today."

"You did," he deadpanned.

"See."

He watched for a moment as her attention shifted back to his daughter while they continued playing what looked like some sort of game of thumb war that Michonne was clearly letting her win.

"What do you make of Morgan?" he asked, his question causing her to pause and straighten up, giving him her full attention.

"He's much different than the man I met which is probably a good thing. He seems strong, smart, had good input for the plan, willing to pitch in and help..."

"Yeah." Rick nodded, this time a bit unconvincingly for her liking, which led her to believe that this was the reason he'd been lingering in the kitchen after he finished his dinner.

"What do you think? I mean, this is only the second time I've met him."

"Well, it's only my third time."

"Yeah, but you said he was your friend, that he saved your life, told you what was going on back in the beginning, so I think that counts for something."

"He seems...different, but the same. More like the man I met the first time, but I know he's not. He can't be."

"None of us are the same people we were a year or two years ago. You have to change."

"Yeah, I know... I don't feel right keeping him in that cell, but how can I be absolutely sure that he can be trusted?"

"You can't. It comes back to that whole thing about what to risk, when it's safe to let someone in..."

"You can never really know."

"I feel like you know what you want to do. You should trust yourself. I'm with you on this."

"Even if it means a longer line for the bathroom in the morning?" he asked with a grin.

"Look at you..." She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face at his moment of levity. "Yeah, I just remember him having questionable taste in decorating, so I'll have to draw the line there."

He huffed out a laugh and bit down on his bottom lip, holding her gaze for a moment until they were interrupted by Carl bounding down the stairs and the tea kettle beginning its high pitched whistle. She turned to take it off the burner while Carl made a quick detour into the kitchen to say good bye to the three of them before leaving. He only had about an hour of daylight left, and was clearly trying not to waste another minute of it with them. Michonne crinkled her nose and sniffed the air, smelling a trace of what she thought was cologne, something she hadn't smelled for years now. She watched Carl's back as he ran out the door, squinting her eyes as she studied him, almost certain that she was just imagining things, but making a mental note to find time to have a chat with him tonight before bed time, _just to check in_, she told herself. Once he reached the door, she heard him say hello to someone before he popped his head back in.

"Hey, Morgan's here!" he called back to them before he took off, leaving the door open to the porch.

Rick looked up at Michonne, giving her a final chance to veto him before he headed out there. She gave him a small grin before nodding her head towards the door, encouraging him to go see his friend. With that, he stood and settled Judy on his hip before heading out to the porch.


	12. Chapter 12

**This week's episode had such a beautiful, unexpected moment that I couldn't pass up playing with. David's story was tragic, and no doubt, affected Michonne. So the question is, what was going on in her mind? Here's my take. Hope you enjoy. **

**Episode 6x3: Thank You**

"Is it bad?"

Michonne pulled at the collar of David's shirt to see the bloodied bite mark that spanned across his right shoulder blade.

"It's about what you'd expect."

"Huh. Didn't expect this."

She looked away into the forest then to his left hand where he was nervously twisting his gold band around his finger.

"How long you been married?"

"Three months. She wasn't my wife from before," he clarified knowing that was likely the next question.

"How'd you meet?"

"It was early on. Aaron found me. I was alone, lost everything. Everyone. Myself, I…I wasn't crazy. I just gave up on being someone, an actual person. Know what I mean?"

"I do." She knew all too well what he meant, thinking back to her time alone after she lost Andre and Mike. _I was just another monster. And I was…me. I was gone for a long time._

"We found Betsy on the way back to the community. She still saw me. After I thought I was dead and gone, she was my first friend. Then she was more. She made me more. Even better than how I used to be. But if I could make it back, I'd want to say good-bye. Tell her... finding her in all this? That was everything."

She looked at him blankly, hearing what he said, but having trouble putting her own thoughts aside for the moment to be able to formulate a response. She nodded and looked forward, walking in silence next to him for a few moments. _Your dad brought me back. You did. _

"She wanted..." he trailed off and shook his head with a dry chuckle then continued speaking while looking ahead at the empty stretch of road. "She wanted to cook me a big breakfast this morning, to prepare for the 'big day,' and I told her not to bother since this was only a dry run. Just to stay in bed, that we'd do it another time..."

Michonne looked up at him, giving an empathetic frown before looking ahead again which he took as her becoming uncomfortable with his musings.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so morose."

"It's OK," she assured him.

If anyone had a pass to be dark and self-pitying, it was him. He was a dead man walking; able bodied and of sound mind now, but with an imminent death sentence hanging over his head. Given the thoughts and emotions he had stirred up in her own mind and heart, she could only imagine what was going on in his. It wasn't just Betsy that was losing him; he was losing her, too. In fact, he'd already lost her and was mourning the fact that he'd likely never see her again. Michonne had never been lost to anyone, but she had lost, and she knew what was running through his mind. What was the last thing I said? Did I say or do enough to let them know how much they meant to me? What would I do if I had a little more time? Just five more minutes?

"Are you married?"

She quickly turned her head at the question, an apparently inscrutable look on her face that caused him to backtrack.

"Or attached or whatever people are calling it these days...you don't have to answer that. It's probably too personal."

"Well, I did ask you first, so..." she said softly excusing his query. "But no. I'm not."

_"Good Morning."_

_"Morning," Rick whispered back looking up from his bowl of raisin bran from where he sat at the head of their small dining table with just the single overhead light illuminated._

_"Where's Judes?" she asked quietly as she pulled out the chair to his right where there was already an empty bowl and spoon awaiting her._

_"Asleep. It's too early even for her," he said of his usual breakfast companion._

_"Right...6:00 AM call time at the gates is sort of cruel."_

_She looked up as she poured the cereal into her bowl to catch him tilting his head to one side as he grunted in agreement._

_"That was my concession. People were worried about making it back in time for dinner and some gathering or something."_

_"Mmm." She held up a finger to signal she had a response as she swallowed her mouthful of cereal. "It's Sunday. Gabriel's been holding weekly services in the church," she explained._

_Rick dropped his spoon into his bowl, and shook his head in disbelief. The clanking sound of the metal meeting the glass cut through the otherwise quiet room and caused Michonne to draw her head back, giving him a confused look, unsure whether it was the mere mention of Gabriel that garnered that response or some latent frustration over this plan that was resurfacing. _

_"They see this as some kind of nine-to-five job with weekends and holidays off. That doesn't…that doesn't exist anymore."_

_"I don't think they really see it that way. They're coming around."_

_"They're not."_

_"Rick. Today is a run through. So long as everyone shows up, pays attention, and takes it seriously, there's no reason to drag it out. It's good that you compromised. I think it'll help in the long run."_

_He picked his spoon up again, scooping another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, and shrugging his shoulders, unconvinced that it would. He'd come a long way in his attitude towards the Alexandrians, but their desire and ability to change was still a point of contention with him._

_"Well, I don't know why I'm even complaining about the early start. You know I'm always down for dinner at a reasonable time...in bed by nine...especially after a hard day's work…" she said as she lowered her head to seek out his eyes, a grin spreading across her face. She felt like she had to work a little harder to reach her Rick these days, the guy she could share a laugh with or shoot the shit with, but he was still there. She could always find him. _

_Rick huffed out a laugh, and shook his head. "The kids don't even go to bed that early..."_

_"Carl and Judith don't need their beauty sleep like I do," she quipped as she looked back down at her cereal bowl, feeling ever so slightly lame for being called out on her love of going to bed early whenever possible._

_"Oh, you don't need-"_

_"Good Morning."_

_Rick and Michonne looked up to see Morgan had joined them at the table, standing at the end opposite of Rick with his hands resting on the back of the chair._

_"Morning," Rick said, his slight smile sustained from his interrupted conversation with Michonne. "How'd you sleep last night?"_

_"Well. Wonderfully, really."_

_"Well, have a seat. I'll grab you a bowl," Rick said as he began to push back in his chair._

_"No need." Morgan held up his hand to stop him. "If I'm living here, no sense in treating me like a guest. Where are they?"_

_"Top cabinet just to the right of the stove. Silverware is in the drawer below it," Michonne informed him._

_He gave her a grateful smile then walked into the kitchen. She looked up making eye contact with Rick to which he nodded and gave her a tight lipped grin. She returned it before looking back down at her breakfast. They both resumed eating their cereal, the soft slurping of milk and clanking of spoons scraping the bottom of the bowl the only sounds between them. _

She hadn't lost anything yet, but she was overcome with this unshakable feeling that she had something to lose. Something more, something different now with Rick than she'd had after the fall of the prison; and uneasiness began to creep up inside of her. Not making it was never in her plans, but, then again, neither were the events of the day. Just in case things didn't work out, she found herself asking: What was the last thing I said? Did I say or do enough to let them know how much they meant to me? What would I do if I had a little more time? Just five more minutes? She closed her eyes and released a long breath as she kept walking knowing that she had no good answers to any of those questions, and that it would have to change.


	13. Chapter 13

**OK, so there's not much more to be said at this point except that I hope everyone is in a better place right now. I know I'm getting there. I desperately wanted to write a Richonne scene for this episode and try to put some kind of positive spin on it, but I just couldn't find it in me because I'm still not sure what story they're trying to tell here. If you're looking for that, check out ****_Third Night _****which I wrote before the episode aired. I'm doing something I've found myself doing a lot of since 5B (see chapters 8 and 9) which is checking in with our favorite lady and my current favorite Grimes boy. I also thought I'd play with some themes that I'd hope to see come up already. Hope you enjoy. Hugs. **

**Episode 6x5: Now**

"Pssst."

Carl turned from his spot in the foyer, his hand grasping the door knob, to find the source of noise coming from the darkened living room. He squinted his eyes as he scanned the room and finally made out Michonne's face, illuminated by the small sliver of moonlight shining through the front window, and staring at him from her where she laid with her knees bent and head resting on the armrest of the large plaid chair in the corner.

"Oh hey," he whispered back nonchalantly, his hand still glued to the door knob as he shifted in place.

"Hey. Where you off to?"

"Just gonna take a walk."

She didn't need to look at the clock to tell her how late it was, but she glanced up at the wall anyway seeing that it was just past 11:00 PM.

"Come sit with us," she said warmly as she glanced at Judith who had dozed off where she was seated in the bend of Michonne's hips with her back against her legs.

"I feel like that's all I've been doing today. Just sitting around waiting."

"Well, we're gonna be doing a lot of that for the foreseeable future. Come on."

"Michonne..."

He'd practically groaned her name and continued shuffling his feet in place anxiously, obviously itching to get out of that house.

"There's a curfew for a reason, Carl. And it applies to everyone," Michonne said, her friendly tone sharpening.

"Then where's my dad?"

"_Almost_ everyone," she said with a small smirk at his challenge, something she rarely found herself on the receiving end of.

"Just five minutes. I'll be right back."

"_Sit," _she said firmly as she secured the sleeping baby against her chest in a snug embrace and picked herself from the chair, walking over to the couch to join Carl who had finally relented and dropped into the sofa, letting his body melt into the cushions as he sighed in frustration. She sat next to him, and her face softened as she saw how upset he seemed.

"What's going on?" she asked gently.

"If I tell you something, can you promise you won't mention it to my dad?"

She frowned at him, and looked away for a moment. On principle alone, she was against the idea of keeping secrets between the father and son, but the kid obviously needed to talk, and she wanted to be there for him. On a day like today, everyone needed someone to talk to. She'd barely seen Rick all day and had no clue where he was right now, so how wrong would it be to keep a secret from someone who wasn't around to hear it anyway? She sighed and looked back at him, the frown fading from her face.

"Promise."

"Enid left after the attack earlier today..she scaled the wall and now she's stuck out there."

Michonne's mind reeled at Carl's revelation. She really knew nothing of Enid other than that she was the lone neighborhood girl about Carl's age. She couldn't say she knew where she lived or who she belonged to, but the thought of one of Carl's new peers being outside the gates in this situation was upsetting. She'd just witnessed how poorly the adults in the community fared out there, and didn't want to think about what would happen to one of their children.

"Why would she do that?"

"It's just something she does...she freaks out, and she just runs away from people or problems so she can't get hurt...but it was before we knew the herd was coming. She wasn't expecting that."

"Is that where you were going just now? Were you going off to try to find her?"

As Michonne watched Carl hesitate for a moment before answering, she noticed how quickly her heart had started to beat at the thought of him slipping past her and going over that wall.

"I don't know. Maybe. I've been thinking about it all day. Part of me knows it's too risky, but she doesn't have anyone, Michonne."

He looked at her with his wide blue eyes, pleading with her to understand where he was coming from. She nodded quietly as she re-positioned Judith in her arms.

"She has Ron, but he won't help her. Not that he even could if he wanted to..." he grumbled, rolling his eyes before looking up at her again. "It's just that if it was me out there, I _know_ that you and dad would come looking for me. And if it was you, you know that dad and me would come for you. She doesn't have that. It's just me."

Michonne nodded slowly, as she replayed his last words over in her mind. _And if it was you, you know that dad and me would come for you._ She knew what she would do for him, his father, and the baby in her arms; and her in head, she supposed she knew what they would do for her, too, but there was something about hearing those words from his mouth, so sincere and unthinking, that made her pause for a moment.

"Does she even have a knife or know how to protect herself?"

"Yeah, she does. She's been out there like us, and she's been on her own before...after she lost her family. She's strong, but..." he shook his head as his words trailed off.

"You're worried," she finished softly.

"Yeah."

"Look, I know how you're feeling, but it's just too dangerous out there right now for any of us to leave otherwise I swear I'd be out there."

"I can't stand being stuck in here." Carl looked ahead as he scraped the toe of his boot against the underside of the coffee table over and over.

"I know. As soon as we get a handle on this, you and I will go out and look for her."

"Really?" he asked seeming as if he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"We will, but you've got to promise me that you won't try going out there on your own before that. I wouldn't be OK if something happened to you."

He looked up at her and nodded solemnly before finally softening his expression and allowing a small grin to play on his lips which she returned.

"And I probably don't have any business trying to speak for Enid, but I have a feeling she wouldn't want you putting yourself in danger either. Not with the way things are," she added.

"She doesn't. She told me as much. She acts like she doesn't care about anything anymore, but I know she does. She just can't say it yet. I don't even know if that makes sense..." he said as he shook his head and looked away self-consciously.

"No, it makes perfect sense. That's something definitely something people do."

"Yeah, people _do_ do that, don't they?

Carl looked at her pointedly; the small, sad grin returning to his face. She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow at him knowingly, aware that he'd called her out, and rightfully so given their history. The universe seemed intent on sending a message today, reminding her over and over again of whom she was and what she'd been through to get here. From David recalling a time when he had given up on living; to coming up on her community's walls and having a moment of crippling fear that she might be reliving the worst day of her life when she lost Mike and Andre; to remembering what it felt like to suffer loss like Enid and running off to avoid getting too close to people again. She'd come so far in the past year, but since arriving in Alexandria it had started to feel like it wasn't far enough.

"Are you OK?"

She had fallen quiet, her chin resting on Judith's head, as those memories ran through her mind before returning to her present thoughts and fears.

"Yeah. I'm just worried about Glenn, Daryl, Sasha, Abe..."

"They're gonna make it. They all will."

She gave him a sad smile and nodded, hoping beyond all hope that he was right. She reached out with one hand to squeeze his knee, and he covered her hand with his squeezing it back before speaking again.

"I'm glad you're home, though, because I wouldn't be OK if something happened to you either. None of us would be."


	14. Chapter 14

**Well, it only took 7 episodes, but we finally got some Richonne interaction, and they didn't disappoint, did they? I was feeling a bit stuck with to what to write for this chapter because I've already written similar scenes in ****_Into Dawn_****, but I tried to do a slightly different spin. **

**Episode 6x7: Heads Up**

"Making it now, do you really think you can do that without getting blood on your hands?"

"I don't know...I'm not sure if I can give you the answer you want to hear right now." Morgan's eyes swept across the table, taking in the three stoic faces of his friend and new roommates staring back at him. "Will that be all?"

Rick gave a slight nod, and with that, Morgan pushed back his chair from the table, and stood, grabbing his bo then walking out the front door. Carol's eyes stayed trained on his back until the door shut and for a few seconds after that, shaking her head in disbelief before she looked at Rick who was staring down at his clasped hands resting on the table.

"That's it? You're just gonna let him walk out of here like that?" she asked with a hard edge to her voice that caused him to tilt his head up to look at her, revealing a stern look.

"What do you want me to do? Make him sit here until he tells me what we want to hear? Would that really change anything? He's not gonna know what he'll do until he's faced with that situation again," he spat back at her.

"That's dangerous, Rick. He's bound to get one of us killed if he keeps up like this."

Rick glanced at Michonne who was calmly listening in, then back at the living room window which framed the idyllic interior of the community. He leaned back in his chair and unclasped his hands, letting them fall to the table with palms facing up in resignation.

"Carol, we have a whole community of people who have no idea what they're doing. They don't kill because they can't. Not walkers and certainly not humans. It's all the same. Anyway, no one's getting in here now with all of that," he said gesturing his hand toward the herd beyond the wall.

"That doesn't make it OK. I don't trust him."

"Yeah, I hear you loud and clear."

Carol silently stared back at him, and him at her, for a few moments in a complete stalemate that was finally interrupted by the sound of Judith's whimpering coming from the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen island. Rick moved to tend to his daughter before Carol waived him off and left the table to head upstairs. The sound of her boots hitting each wood step with more force than usual transmitted her frustration throughout the otherwise silent house.

Rick looked over at Michonne, still collected and silent, her eyes still looking up toward the second floor after Carol had already disappeared from sight.

"Walk with me?"

She looked over at the sound of Rick's voice in time to see him nodding his head toward the front door.

"Sure."

She pushed away from the table at the same time as him then pushed her chair in, and grabbed her katana from the spot just to her right where it was leaning against the table. She began to lift her arms to sling the strap across her chest, but she stopped short at the feel of Rick's hand on her wrist, and looked up to find him standing in front of her.

"We're not goin' far."

She nodded, and shrugged while a small, embarrassed grin flashed on her face. Near or far, with things the way they were, this katana was coming with her. She lowered her arms to her side, her sword grasped firmly in her right hand, and followed Rick through the living room and out the front door where he led her over to the railing of their front porch. She watched for a moment as he looked out over the community then settled into place by bending at the waist and resting his forearms on the railing. Once she realized their walk was over, she leaned her katana against a post, and rested her hands on the railing, looking across their front yard to the wall in front of them. The carnage from the day before had been cleared, and the inside looked like nothing had ever happened. What she couldn't ignore, though, was the low, constant hum of the herd. If you listened long enough, it became white noise and you could almost forget what was causing it until a distinct snarl or growl rose above the rest or a hand beating on the metal wall reminded you of what was out there.

"You got quiet in there at the end," Rick said softly, still staring at the wall.

"Didn't have much to add. You pretty much said it all."

He turned his head to look up at her, arching an eyebrow to question her response.

"Our biggest threat right now is the herd, and we know he's more of an asset than a liability in this situation, so we use his strength to our advantage now and continue this conversation later."

"Why does it sound better when you say it? Maybe she would have accepted that coming from you. Could have saved me from getting beat up back there," he said with a wry grin, as he continued to look up at her.

"You know that's not true...not lately anyway," she said matching his grin with one of her own.

He grunted in response then looked back out toward the wall. She was right; he knew and she knew well enough that she and Carol had very different thoughts on how to handle matters, so there was no sense in trying to pretend that wasn't true just to placate her. He was through with lying to Michonne anyway, even little white lies at this point.

"What I did...it's different with Morgan than with those men. I know him, he's not like them," he said after a few moments, fishing for more of her input on not just the conversation they'd just had, but how he'd been handling Morgan.

"It was...it is."

"He could barely justify his stance. He was talking in circles in there."

"He's trying his damnedest to hold on to his way of life, what's been working for him. He's terrified to change, but he's starting to understand that he's going to have to if he stays here with us. I get it. I've been there. You make these rules for yourself and you cling to them because they're all you have, and they're why you think you've made it...like you said, the rules keep changing."

She held his gaze, watching his face to see what his reaction would be to hearing his own observation come back around again. There was no grin or recognition on his face, he just squinted and narrowed his eyes at her before looking away.

"Yeah..." he finally responded, vaguely and delayed. He'd said that just about two weeks ago, but it may as well have been two years ago at this point. The rules had changed so many times since entering those gates, and he felt like he was barely keeping up. He wasn't sure where he stood anymore.

"You, Morgan, Carol, me...we've made it this far because we keep adapting. You can't stay the same and expect to make it. That's why I think he can come around."

"I hope you're right."

Michonne sighed and looked ahead, her attention caught by a surge in the noise at the wall.

"We've gotta make a move soon," Rick mused aloud in response to the noise which was a reminder of the problem they couldn't ignore much longer.

"What are you thinking?"

"If we can somehow get outside the walls, get back to our cars at the quarry, we could use them to draw them away."

"We'll set up more watch points. Coordinate the shooting of guns and flares so we could pull them out in even directions."

"We'd need to get all our people on it. Carl, Tara, Rosita, Carol."

"What about everybody else?"

"Well, let's just keep this to our own for now," Rick said he as he straightened into a standing position and turned to face her, seeing the disapproving look that matched her tone and question.

"Really?"

"Look, if we had the time to bring the people along, sure. But we haven't had a chance to catch our breath," he tried to explain.

"Really?" she challenged again before sighing and looking away. "We're in here together. We're catching our breath right now. Anything else is just excuses."

Rick looked away for a moment, as her words sunk in, then allowed his eyes to return to her face to find her staring right back at him, challenging him and waiting for a response. His eyes dropped from hers and trailed downward across her lips to her chest then back up as he considered not only the words, but the woman standing here in front of him. _The rules keep changing._ She was right; but again, he found himself trying to cling to the rules that allowed him and his family to be alive in this community right now. The rules he imposed upon himself to allow him to keep this woman in his life and his children's lives. He could feel the pull to change, but in looking at her, he found himself unable to agree, so he began to nod, acknowledging only that he'd heard her. The sound of footsteps coming up the steps caused him to break his gaze from Michonne's.

"Deanna."

"Rick," she greeted as she came to stand in front of them on the porch. Michonne turned to face her, both her and Rick's eyes being drawn to the roll of paper in her hand.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Plans for the expansion," she announced proudly.

"We got a few other things on our plate right now," Rick said unable to hide his irritation.

Michonne reached for the plans, and looked up at Rick.

"I know," Deanna said undeterred by his response. "These are for what Alexandria can be after this. Because one way or another, there's gonna be an after this."

Deanna smiled and turned to leave having fulfilled what was apparently the sole reason for visiting. She didn't inquire about the status of the herd or fortifications, she just left. Michonne watched her walk away then looked up at Rick to find him shaking his head. She watched him, knowing that Deanna's visit had not helped her cause at all.

"_That's_ why it has to be us. We've got people missing, a herd surrounding our walls with more on the way probably, and she's thinkin' about crops? New buildings? We gotta focus on keeping this place standing right _now_." He stepped in closer to her as he spoke, his voice a harsh whisper, and his finger pointing to the ground between them to emphasize his point.

"Stop," she said softly, allowing her free hand to graze his forearm.

"Michonne."

He dropped his head to meet her eyes, pleading for her to see his point.

"You're right, now's not the time, but it's coming; otherwise what are we doing this for?"

She tilted her head and looked at him, eyes soft and matching the calm, even tone of her voice. She was meeting him where he was without abandoning her position, and he felt himself begin to relax as he took a breath and looked back at her. She tilted the plans in her hand toward him, letting them rest against his chest, and widened her eyes, asking him to accept them. He looked down between them then back at her, stuck for a moment, before he gently rebuffed her gesture by pushing her hand away from him.

"I...I gotta go work on the wall," he said as he broke eye contact and looked away for a moment for fear of disappointing her.

"OK," she said nodding, her face still soft and understanding. "They'll be here when you're ready."


	15. Chapter 15

**I got hit with inspiration a few days ago and wrote a little something that I figured I'd go ahead and post. Their early interactions as a couple are going to be glossed over on the show, but it's too fascinating not to think about. Canon life is the best, isn't it? :)**

**Episode 6x12**

Michonne and Rick walked into their home which was completely dark except for the soft light coming from the pendant lamps hanging over their kitchen island. She smiled to herself as she walked toward the lit area, knowing that Carl must have left it on for them before heading to bed. She walked around to the other side of the island, placing her hands on the cool granite counter, and sighing as she bent at the waist and rounded her back. She'd been startled out of bed early that morning, travelled to a new community, learned of a new enemy, and just finished a two hour strategy session for a mission unlike any they'd ever attempted before. It had been a day to say the least.

Rick moved to stand beside her, watching her as she quietly studied the basket of fresh vegetables sitting on their countertop.

"You hungry?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Not really," she said as she straightened her back and looked up at him, shifting her eyes from the basket of food to his drawn, handsome face.

"Me neither. It's a shame..."

And it really was, she thought, considering how long it had been since they'd had this kind of bounty and what they'd offered to do for it. She placed her hand over his, and mustered a small, comforting smile.

"We'll have a big breakfast with the kids tomorrow before we head out," she assured him as squeezed his hand.

"You got any good squash recipes?" he asked with a crooked grin. At least half of their ration was yellow squash as it was in season and easy to grow.

"You can put anything in a_ frittata_, right?"

He wrinkled his nose at her suggestion. He had no clue what a _frittata_ was, but it sounded fussy and unappetizing to him. She caught sight of the disapproving look on his face and rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on," she groaned. "A hash, then?"

"Maybe," he teased with an unimpressed shrug of his shoulders.

"If you're gonna knock my ideas, you better have some of your own."

"I'll think on it," he said with a wry grin.

She nudged her shoulder into his side, and he quickly brought his arm up and wrapped it around her upper back to keep her close as he began to chuckle.

"Yeah, you do that," she suggested dryly before a smile erupted on her face.

"It's good to see you smiling again..." he said softly as he looked down at her. "You've been quiet since we left Hilltop. If you've got reservations about the plan-"

"I would have said so," she said quickly. He nodded, knowing that she would have, but not wanting to assume. "I don't like what we have to do, but it's all we _have_ to do."

"But if you-"

"Remember what you said about turning your brain off last night?" she asked with a grin, the pitch in her voice raising slightly.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, that's what I need right now. And a shower and some sleep."

He stared back at her for a moment as a bashful grin passed over his lips, taking the hint that he was beginning to smother her just a bit. Things had changed between them the night before, but Michonne was still Michonne. _Tough, honest, and independent. _Despite his best intentions, he needed to remember that. He pulled her against his side once more before releasing his arm from around her and letting it trail gently down her back as he did. She pushed herself away from the island, and turned to walk behind him, heading in the direction of the short hall just off of the kitchen that led to her bedroom. He watched as she slowly walked off, then paused, and turned back toward him with a shy smile on her face.

"You coming?" she asked.

"Oh, I thought..."

She tilted her head curiously at him as he stammered slightly.

"...you were trying to get rid of me. Needed your space."

She looked down and shook her head while letting out a soft laugh, then looked back up at him and smiled before retracing her steps back into the kitchen. She grabbed his hand and tugged gently causing him to push away from the spot where he was still leaning against the counter in order to follow her. As they walked out of the kitchen, she passed her hand over the light switch to render the room completely dark, then headed toward her bedroom where she shut the door and locked it behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi All! Still feeling lazy in my post-canon haze, but I wanted to post a little something I wrote for the Richonne Just Dessert's 42 Day Challenge. Check it out on tumblr if you haven't heard of it. Tons of great authors are writing stories that fill in the days between the Chop and Canon, and there's some great stuff. There are some references that refer to blacklitchick's wonderful Day 13 entry, but I figured this could stand alone and easily fit into the Little Talks series, so I hope you enjoy. **

**Day 14, Between 6x09 and 6x10**

"Rick?"

Michonne clutched her robe shut with one hand to cover her thin tank and pajama shorts as she stepped out of the dark hallway, and into the lit kitchen where she'd been drawn by the sound of someone moving around.

"Hey," he said with a rueful grin as he popped his head out of the pantry at the sound of her voice. "Sorry if I woke you."

"I was still up reading," she said as she waved the book she was carrying in her other hand as evidence. "You're just getting home now? It's after midnight."

"Yeah…" he said with a sigh as he disappeared back into the pantry.

"Everything go OK out there?"

"Yeah, just got a little carried away," he explained as he resurfaced from the pantry with a can. He closed the door then walked over to stand across from her at the kitchen island. "We went out farther than we meant to."

"What's that?" she asked nodding in his direction.

"Wax beans. You want some?"

"No, _that_," she clarified as she pointed at the glass bottle of golden liquid sitting on the counter in front of him. His eyes followed the direction of her index finger, and widened at the once he saw what she was referring to.

"Oh, just something I found today…" he said innocently.

"And you weren't planning on sharing?"

"I _was_," he assured her, feeling slightly offended by her second guessing him.

"Right," she teased with a smirk.

"I didn't come across any wine today, but they do call this the champagne of beers," he said as he set his can of beans down on the counter and picked up the glass bottle.

She looked at him skeptically, so he held it out toward her for her own inspection. She put her book down on the counter, and quickly cinched her robe at the waist to free up her hands so that she could take the bottle from him. She turned it in her hands so that she could read the label: _Miller High Life, The Champagne of Beers_. She let out a short laugh, and looked up to meet his knowing eyes. He indulged in a satisfied grin before opening up the drawer to pull out a fork and can opener.

"And where does one find a delicacy like this?" she asked, still considering the bottle in her hand.

"At a gas station way down Route 7," he answered as he walked over to the sink to drain the liquid from the can of beans. "_Way down_," he added in his thick drawl as he looked over his shoulder at her.

She smiled as she watched him pour the beans into a bowl, thinking of what he'd said to her just before he'd left that morning._ I'm always looking out for things you'd like._ She certainly hadn't had a bottle of beer in mind, but the idea of unwinding and sharing a drink with him seemed like just what she wanted at the moment. As he turned to walk back in her direction, she caught his eye and gave him a grin.

"I'm in."

He tilted his head, caught off guard for a moment by her change in tune. He bit down on his lower lip to try to tamp down on the smile that wanted to spread across his lips. He'd figured his little gag might get a smart comment out of her, which was prize enough for him; and then he'd end up drinking it on his own one day or passing it along to Daryl who'd gladly taken the other two bottles they'd found. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised that this bottle of likely skunked, low-brow beer had earned him her company during his late night dinner.

He placed his bowl on the counter, then wiped his damp hands on the side of his jeans, and turned to the cabinet behind him to grab two glasses. Two wine glasses, to be exact, much to Michonne's amusement. He then reached for the bottle, still in her hand.

"Aren't we classy?" she teased.

She watched as he lowered the bottle below the counter, and lined the cap up with the edge. He raised his left hand, and she cringed as she realized what he was about to do. He brought his hand down swiftly, and she heard a loud pop. There was no broken glass or chipped countertop as she'd feared, just one expertly opened bottle of beer. It was clearly something he'd done a time or two in his previous life.

As he fixed their drinks, she found herself mesmerized by his toned and tanned forearms that peeked out from the tightly cuffed sleeves of his tan button down shirt. Although she'd never seen him do something like this, there was a strange sense of _deja vu_. The ease with which he moved around the kitchen and looked up at her periodically with a slight smile felt familiar and natural.

Her eyes trailed down his arms and past his silver watch to his left hand where it had wrapped around the glass to anchor it as he poured her a serving. Her gaze settled upon the faint, pale strip of calloused skin at the base of his ring finger. She stared hard at it for a moment, until it dawned on her that what she was noticing was the absence of his ring. She tried to remember whether it was there the last time she'd seen him, but she honestly couldn't recall. The movement of the glass towards her brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to find him holding his glass, and smiling at her expectantly.

She picked it up in her hand, and smiled back before clinking it against his.

"Cheers."

"Cheers," she whispered back.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This is a brief one-shot I did for the Richonne Just Desserts blog on tumblr a couple months ago that I wanted to add to the collection. Thanks to all of the new and old readers who have been catching up on this series, and leaving such nice comments. Happy to be contributing a little something to fill the hiatus void. **

**Episode 6x12 (Alone on the Hill)**

"There's a set of shared washrooms just down the hall, but you can hang out here while you wait," Jesus said as he stopped at an open door that led to a small sitting room just off the main hall. Michonne and Rick stepped into the room and turned back to look at Jesus who leaned against the doorframe with a wily grin on his face. "The door locks…twice," he said as he twisted the chain of the second lock in his fingers.

Michonne hung her head low, frustrated that she couldn't go more than a few minutes without being reminded of that morning's hijinks; and that's exactly what her first time with Rick had turned into. It was an intensely private, life-altering experience turned into a very public moment thanks to this guy standing in front of her; and despite that, she had a hard time hating him for it. In fact, she was starting to like him even though he'd broken into their house and brought unwelcome drama into her life.

"All joking aside, I am sorry about this morning," he said as the grin dropped from his face. He pushed himself off of the doorframe and straightened up.

"Let's just let bygones be bygones," Rick said with a wave of her hand as he glanced down at his best friend and new girlfriend of twelve hours who was obviously rattled by the day's events.

"Let's," she concurred as she looked up at Jesus. He gave her a nod and turned to leave.

"I'll go grab some washcloths for you two."

"I'll come with," Rick volunteered as he stepped toward Jesus. "You stay. Take it easy," he said to Michonne, running his hand down her arm as he walked away.

She watched them leave the room and close the door on their way out, then walked toward the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. It was a small, but stately room, furnished with dark wood and upholstered antique chairs in line with the rest of the main house. She thumbed through the collection of books mindlessly, just giving her hands something to do as she enjoyed the first peaceful moment she'd aside from the ten minutes she'd taken to rinse off and change clothes before leaving for Hilltop. Before she could even allow her brain to begin to process everything that had happened, she heard the door open and close behind her, punctuated by the sound of the first lock and then the second. She turned to see Rick drop a stack of towels on the table near the door before walking toward her with a small smile on his face.

"Maggie and Glenn are finishing up, then Daryl and Abe are up next."

"That could take a while," she quipped, thinking of the thin layer of grime that always seemed to cover Daryl's arms and face. Rick cracked a smile at her joke then opened his arms up to her.

"Come here," he said with a tilt of his head.

She walked into his embrace, exhaling in relief as she rested her head against his chest and felt his arms tighten around her.

"You're crazy day has become mine…" she murmured into his skin.

"Yeah, it just keeps goin'," he said with a light tone before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Not all bad, though…"

She lifted her head up to look at him, and gave him a smile. She wasn't used to this kind of attention from him: the tenderness in his voice, his unwavering gaze, and the constant need to connect through touches both big and small; but now that she had it, she never wanted it to stop.

"No," she said softly, unable to suppress the moony grin that wanted to take over her lips every time she looked at him. "Not at all."

"I talked to Carl right before we left," Rick offered, taking advantage of their alone time to catch up.

"What did you say?"

"That I was going to tell him, but that it had just happened and I didn't have the time." She winced as she felt a flash of embarrassment for herself and Carl at the implication of Rick's choice of words. He hadn't just confirmed their new relationship, he'd put a timestamp on the consummation of it, and that was something the poor kid didn't need to know. He must have sensed her discomfort or felt it himself because he chuckled self-consciously before continuing. "And I also told him that this is a good thing, that it's real…"

She smiled shyly, and nodded, agreeing fully with his assessment of what this was. It was real, and it was right. Despite the less than ideal start, that was something she could promise Rick and his kids.

"How did he take it?"

"Well," he said as he nodded. "He's cool with it."

"What did he say?"

Rick began to chuckle at her question.

"He literally said _It's cool_. That's it."

Michonne let out a short laugh. She was relieved that Carl knew and approved, but that wasn't the end of the conversation for her.

"I should talk to him."

"He's OK with it," Rick assured her as he rubbed his thumbs along the curves of her hips where his hands still rested. "Really."

"No, I still do."

Rick shook his head, understanding that they had their own unique bond that required acknowledgement, as well. This relationship was different, as he'd told his son. Michonne wasn't just some new woman that he needed to force the fit into his and his children's lives; she was already there.

As they stood staring at each other quietly for just a moment, she found her hands making their way up to his cheeks as his hands drew her hips into him. He lowered his head and she raised up on her toes ever so slightly to press her lips to his. They had a new way of filling the silence between them. No more lingering looks or pregnant pauses, if they weren't speaking, there were better things for them to be doing now.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Michonne's shoulders tensed at the sound, and they pulled away from each other, staring at the closed door.

"Time for the Bony Express to make it's final delivery," Abe's familiar voice boomed from behind the door. "You're up for the washroom."

"Ok," Michonne called out flatly before turning back to Rick to finish her response under her breath, "…_asshole_. He better get it out of his system. I'm giving it a day, then I'll start striking back."

Rick couldn't hide his amusement at seeing her fight return. He'd loved seeing the softer, shy side of Michonne, but he did have a soft spot for this side of her.

"That's just Abe bein' Abe. It'd take longer than a day for that to change…if ever."

"This is true…" she admitted. "You ready?"

"Yeah." He turned toward the table to pick up the pile of linens he'd gotten from Jesus, then pulled the hand towel off the top of the pile to reveal a mason jar lying beneath it. "Here you go," he said as he passed her both items.

"What's this?" she asked as she took them. She held the half-full jar in her hand, examining the viscous, off-white substance that coated the sides of the glass.

"Apparently it's what passes for toothpaste these days. Baking soda, water, and mint extract."

Her eyes widened at the mention of toothpaste, and she looked up from the jar to see the proud smirk on Rick's face.

"Where did you get this?"

"I shook Jesus down for some. It was his personal supply, but now it's yours. I figured he owed us after all the trouble he caused…now don't go crazy with that, you need to make it last," he warned.

She clutched the jar to her chest, and playfully swatted him on his left thigh with the hand towel in her other hand, but he caught it and pulled in from her grip causing her to giggle at his teasing. She tilted her head and smiled at him.

"Thank you," she said genuinely touched by the gesture.

"Of course."

She stepped in to give him another kiss, before they were rudely interrupted once again.

"Giddy up, you two! We ain't got all day," the ginger called out along with the sharp rap of his knuckles against the door.

She swiftly stepped over to the door, unlatching the chain, and undoing the lock before swinging it wide open to reveal Abe standing there with his fist raised, about to knock again. She stood, squared off in front of him, right eyebrow arched, and eyes staring a hole into his face. The imposing man chuckled, then took a step back.

"I, uh…I wasn't sure ya heard me," he stammered. "You're up."

"Right," she said icily as she walked past him.

Rick followed behind her, and caught Abraham's questioning eyes. He just shrugged at his friend with a tickled look, and made his way to the washroom.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Another one I wrote for Richonne Just Desserts a few months ago. It's a follow-up to Alone on the Hill (Little Talks, Chapter 17). ** **Post-Episodes 6x12-13 (The Talk)**

Michonne yawned as she shuffled from her bedroom into the dark kitchen. She flipped on the light over the stove, and opened the cabinet just above it to grab the canister of coffee that was pushed to the back behind the multiple boxes of tea she'd been favoring for her caffeine fix over the past few months.

"Hey."

Her shoulders tensed slightly as she shut the cabinet and looked to her left to find Carl watching her from his spot at the dining table where he sat, fully dressed, with a spoon in hand and bowl in front of him.

"Oh, hey," she said evenly as she quickly glanced toward her bedroom where his father was currently showering. She could hear the white noise of running water, and wondered what else could have been heard through those walls just a few minutes earlier. "You're up early," she remarked as she began to set up the coffeemaker.

"Good morning to you, too," he said facetiously, pointing out her rather unenthusiastic greeting.

She sighed and shook her head, knowing that he was justified in calling her out, then turned to face him with an exaggerated smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Grimes. How are you doing today?"

"I'm good," he said with a nod.

"_Well_. You're doing well…since you want to be so formal this morning."

She let her side eye linger on him as she slowly returned her attention to the coffeemaker.

"And how are you today, Mis–" He stopped himself mid-word as she looked back at him with wide eyes while he simultaneously realized that what he was about to call her would only exacerbate their current awkwardness. "–chonne?"

"Just fine," she answered with relief as she changed the subject. "All this fresh food in the house, and you're eating cereal?"

"With milk. It's really good when you haven't had it in a while."

"That's why I'm making coffee. I can finally have a proper cup since we have some milk," she agreed.

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter, watching the clear glass pot fill drip by drip. For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were the gurgling of the water and occasional hiss of steam rising from the back of the machine.

"I can't believe you're still avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you," she said softly as she looked up to find Carl watching her intently. "I've been busy, I've barely been home the past two days."

"Well, it feels like you are." He rested his spoon in the bowl and gave her his undivided attention. "Look, my dad talked to me. I told him I was cool with it, and I really am."

"I know. He told me, but I still wanted to talk to you myself. I was actually planning on catching you later today, but since we're here and we've got time, maybe we can talk now?"

He nodded in agreement, and she gave him a tight grin in return as she inhaled deeply through her nose then released it, trying to calm her nerves in preparation for their talk. She made her cup of coffee then walked over to the table to take a seat next to him, giving him another nervous grin before taking a sip from her mug.

"You don't have to."

She smiled at him, kind and perceptive, as always, apparently picking up on her reticence.

"I do. I owe it to you. We share everything, right?"

"Uh…"

She watched as he shifted uneasily in his seat and looked down for a moment, as it hit her that there were now certainly things a teenage boy would not want to share with his friend turned mother-figure who was now his father's girlfriend.

"Right," she mouthed quietly. "Not everything, obviously. But I'm always going to be honest with you."

"No bullshit," he said with a nod, referring to their long standing policy of straight shooting with one another.

"Exactly." She looked down and took a deep breath then looked him squarely in the eye. "Look, I know it's no surprise to you that your father and I are close, and that we care about each other very much." He nodded along to her very deliberate, carefully chosen words. "And with everything we've been through over the past month, our relationship just kept growing and changing until we realized that there's something more there than just friendship, and that's the truth." She paused for a moment to find that he was still following along without issue. "That's really all there is to it. I'm not sure what else there is to say." She surprised herself with how simple it all really was when it came down to it.

"You love each other," he said as a matter of fact.

She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to get into the semantics of 'love' versus 'in love' with him, although, she realized that her answer would have been the same regardless.

"Of course."

He shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal, just as he'd told Rick. She apparently hadn't told him anything he hadn't already worked out on his own.

"I can't imagine much will change around here at all except some shuffling around of bedrooms," she offered before taking another sip of her coffee.

"Yeah, I think that would be a good idea," he sort of mumbled as he looked down. She could swear she saw a slight pinking of his cheeks as he showed the first flash of embarrassment during this conversation, and she knew what he was thinking because she was thinking it, too.

"I am so sorry about the other morning. That is not how I wanted you to find out. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you have no idea–"

"I know," he said with a dry laugh as he made eye contact with her again. "I've never seen you act like that before."

"And you'll never have to again," she said as she began to laugh quietly, feeling the awkwardness melt away as they addressed it head on. "I swear," she said emphatically as she placed her right hand over her heart.

"Smells amazing. It almost makes up for you turning down–" Rick stopped himself once he rounded the corner, and looked up to find that Michonne had company. "Oh, hey," he called out as the devilish grin he was wearing for Michonne seamlessly turned into chipper smile.

Carl and Michonne stared at him as he stood there in the middle of the kitchen bare-chested with a light blue towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair still damp from the shower.

"What?" he asked obliviously.

Carl turned to look at Michonne wearing a pained expression that said it all. She reached out, and squeezed his forearm where it rested on the table.

"I'll talk to him," she whispered with a quick nod and a knowing wink.


	19. Chapter 19

Hi guys! I was in the mood to do a little writing, so I got this reader prompt from my friends over at Richonne Just Desserts, and decided to give it a go. I'm not sure if this really belongs in this series, but it seemed as good a place as any to put it. Thanks to the RJD follower for inspiration-hope you enjoy!

**_Prompt: Can we get a fic where Rick is obsessed with Michonne's voice?_**

Michonne leaned over their bathroom counter, nose nearly pressed to the mirror and fogging up a small circle with each exhale. She was using the extra five minutes she had before breakfast and an old pair of dull tweezers she'd found buried in the back of their bathroom drawer to try to shape her eyebrows for the first time in a long time. As she focused intently on plucking the stray hairs under the curve of her left brow, she found herself distracted by Rick's prolonged presence.

The air in the small space was still humid from his shower, and the smell of toothpaste and deodorant wafted into her nose each time he busily moved around her doing who knows what since he seemed to have completed his typical morning routine already. She tried to ignore him, though, and returned her attention to her brows to avoid ending up with a disastrous result.

"So what do you have planned for the day?"

With one hand against her forehead holding her hair back, and the second steadily working on her brow, she cast a sidelong glance his way, finding that he had come to rest on the vanity just to her left.

"Going to re-inventory the armory with Olivia like you asked me to last night," she answered without looking. "Remember?"

"Right," he answered with a small self conscious laugh. "Can you believe she still can't tell a pump action from a semi-automatic shotgun no matter how many times I tell her?"

"In all fairness, I never knew or cared until I met a certain _someone_."

"But you got it," he reminded her as he reached out to pinch her waist, moved by the sense of pride he had in her endless abilities and the crush he still harbored for his love's fierce warrior side.

"I did," she agreed, slightly flushed from the flattery, as she playfully dipped her hip out of his reach to put an end to any type of distraction he might be thinking of.

"What are you up to after that?" he asked, still grinning as he watched her face grow focused again once resuming her beauty regime.

"Umm…" She trailed off, failing to successfully focus on two things at once. "…I was going to cover the guards' shifts for lunch break then probably spend the rest of the day working in the garden." She finished plucking the last few hairs at the tapered end of her brow before straightening at the waist to get a look at her work from a distance before her attention went to him. He was still quietly sitting on the countertop, wearing just the towel around his waist, while watching her. "You?"

"Yeah," he said as he pushed off the counter and gave her a peck on the cheek, "the same."

She opened the drawer to toss the tweezers back in then looked up to see that the man with a million questions left her standing there with barely an answer for her one.

"OK…" she sighed under her breath as she walked out of the bathroom and over to her closet to pick out her clothes for the day.

xxxxx

"No. See this?" Michonne asked patiently as she slid her finger over the wooden forestock. "This has an action bar, and that one doesn't," she said as she nodded toward the rifle in Olivia's hand.

"OK, so then this one belongs in this pile?" she asked as she pointed at the other long dark wood and metal gun on the table in front of them.

"No, that's an inline muzzleloader, not a bolt action."

Michonne brought her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose while Olivia simultaneously placed the gun down on the table and threw up her hands in frustration.

"You know, I told Rick, I don't know why we can't just have two bins: big guns and little guns." She laughed and shook her head as she said it, only Michonne knew she wasn't kidding.

"Olivia…"

"Really, Michonne, guns are guns are guns!"

Michonne subtly balled her fists at her sides and looked around the room trying to summon patience as she tried to think of a different approach. It was no wonder Rick had punted this responsibility to her, and now she was wishing Sasha or Maggie was around to take over for her. She heard the door to the pantry swing open behind her then the sound of footsteps and scraping of cans along the metal shelves as someone looked through the rations which gave her an idea.

"Beans."

"What?" Olivia asked, more confused than usual.

"Beans," Michonne repeated. "Would you just group them all together in your pantry inventory?"

"Oh heavens no!" she exclaimed, the thought alone offending her sensibilities. "I mean, red beans and black beans are two totally different things. And then add in the complication of green beans which actually aren't beans at all–"

"Right," Michonne agreed as she held a hand up to make her focus on the task at hand before she went off on a tangent about the finer points of canned foods. "So the guns are like the beans," Michonne explained in a voice not too dissimilar to the one she used when explaining things to Judith. "You wouldn't use a revolver on watch duty just like you wouldn't use lima beans to make chili," Michonne offered, assuming the analogy would strike a chord.

"Well, you could in a pinch," she chirped right away. "One time, I–"

"You could," Michonne allowed with a strained smile, "but you wouldn't really want to, right?" Michonne began to shake her head no, hoping to lead Olivia in the right direction.

"Well of course not!" Michonne's face relaxed and her smile went from forced to genuine and relieved because she finally felt like she was getting somewhere…until she wasn't. "But you really could if you needed to."

Michonne's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes. As with almost anything nowadays, you could if you needed to," she relented.

She watched as Olivia wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead then plopped her notebook down on the table. "I'm parched. Wanna take a fifteen and grab something to drink? I made a fresh pitcher of lemonade last night that is just calling our names."

Michonne looked up at the clock, and tried to swallow her frustration. Only thirty minutes in, and she was calling for break time already. At this rate, Michonne figured she would be better off doing this on her own or else they'd be at it all day, and she still wasn't certain it'd be done.

"I just had breakfast before I came over, so I'm all set, but you go ahead. Take your time."

"You sure?" she asked, one foot already out the door.

"I'm sure," she assured her.

Michonne placed her hands on her hips, and stared at the hundreds of weapons scattered in front of her while she listened to the sound of footsteps and Olivia's distant idle chatter with whomever must have been exiting the pantry as she left the armory. Once the noise faded away, Michonne took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, her head still spinning from their conversation, then picked up the notebook Olivia had left behind, wheeled over a bin of unsorted weapons, and finally got to work.

xxxxx

_Baby llama, what a tizzy_!

The sound of Michonne's voice followed by Judith's giggling carried out into the hallway outside of her bedroom, drawing Rick towards her door as he walked up the stairs. He knew this moment by heart since it was a nightly occurrence in their home, but he still wanted to see it for himself.

Michonne sat in the navy blue armchair that had been relocated from their upstairs hallway to the corner of the little girl's room. Judith was in her lap, and she had one hand holding Llama Llama Red Pajama and resting on the wooden arm of the chair, while the other was slung around her belly, tickling it along with the word tizzy.

"_Sometimes mama's very busy_," Michonne continued.

"Why?" Judith asked, tilting her head up with wide eyed curiosity as if she didn't already know the answer to the question she always asked at this part.

"We're not there yet!" Michonne teased gently before peppering soft kiss on top of Judith's head. "We'll find out soon. Promise."

"_Please stop all this llama drama and be patient for your mama_," she read on.

"Dada," Judith interjected, still giggly from the last aside.

Michonne scrunched her brow at the image of the baby llama and his mother on the page in front of them. "No, silly, that's not llama's daddy."

Her eyes lifted from the page to find Judith's hands extended out in front of her and her attention not on the page, but on the unannounced visitor in the doorway. _Dada_. A sheepish grin spread across his lips upon being found out. She tilted her head and pursed her lips, silently chiding him for sneaking up on her, and causing his eyes to flit towards the ground in shame.

"You want to come join us?" she asked.

"No. Do your thing."

She grinned at the familiar words and shook her head, then returned her attention to story time, trying to find her place on the page again.

"_Little Llama, don't you know, Mama Llama loves you so? Mama Llama's always near, even if she's not right here_." Michonne looked up from the book and rubbed Judy's belly to get her attention. "See? I told you we would find out."

Judith giggled and babbled, expressing satisfaction with the words she didn't have yet; an adorable little thing that just so happened to be Michonne's favorite part of their nightly ritual. As she leaned down to press another kiss to the top of her head, she caught a glimpse of the toes of Rick's boots still in the doorway.

"_Llama llama red pajama gets two kisses from his mama, snuggles pillow soft and deep…Baby Llama goes to sleep_."

Michonne closed the book and dropped it into the basket of books at the side of the chair, then wrapped her other arm around Judith and brought her snug against her chest before placing another kiss on top of her little head.

xxxxx

"Michonne?"

She was right on the cusp of drifting into a deep slumber when the soft whisper in her ear roused her from her sleepy state. She clenched her eyes tighter, hoping that the voice was only in her head, and that she could fall right back into the trance she was in, but the light kiss that followed on her shoulder couldn't be ignored. He was awake, and now so was she.

"Yeah?" she finally answered, voice thick with sleep.

She blinked her eyes a few times and let out a deep breath as she awaited his response, only there were no words that followed to clue her into what he wanted. And while his chest was pressed to her back and arm wrapped around her waist to keep her close, there was no wandering of hands or closening of his hold on her to signal a physical need for waking her, just his steady breath on her neck and the warmth of his body on hers. She brought her hand behind her, finding the back of his head, and gently combing her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck before trailing them over his cheek, her touch eliciting a low contented sigh from him.

She turned in his arms, and rolled onto her side to face him, finding his eyes wide open and staring back at her. She brought her hand back to his cheek, studying his face for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of his right now, and all day, for that matter.

"You OK?" she asked after a thoughtful pause.

His nose crinkled slightly, confused at the assumption that he wasn't. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've just been…I don't know. Seems like you have something on your mind."

He began to chuckle under his breath, and used the hand wrapped around her waist to pull her in a little closer to him. "No, I'm good. I swear," he added to cut off the protest he could sense coming on.

"Then why are you waking me up in the middle of the night?"

"I don't know…I guess I just wanted to hear your voice," he admitted.

She arched an eyebrow at the simple yet surprising reason; a reason that seemed pointless and poignant all at once. Tired as she was, she wasn't annoyed. Instead, she was just grateful that somehow after spending day after day and night after night with her, he still wanted to be near her, and the same was true for her. She closed the small distance between them and dropped her forehead against his, nuzzling her nose against his as she smiled.

"What am I going to do with you?" she murmured, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. He took advantage of their closeness and closed in for a soft peck on her lips.

"Well, since you're up, you could visit with me for a little while."

"_Visit_?" she asked incredulously, assuming it was a euphemism for something else.

"Yeah. Visit," he reiterated as he drew his face back from hers to look her in the eyes.

"OK…" she said hesitantly, realizing he really did just want to talk tonight based on the distance between them again. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Doesn't matter to me. Whatever you want," he answered, shrugging one shoulder indifferently.

"Oh no no," she chided playfully. "You woke me up. It's on you to come up with something," she insisted.

"Let me think…" he teased as he stroked his graying beard for dramatic effect. "I got it. How 'bout beans?"

"_Beans_?"

"Yeah. Pinto, navy, kidney…" As the examples rolled off his tongue, a smirk began to grow on his lips as he could see the look on her face change as she put the pieces together.

"That was you in the pantry? You were listening the whole time?"

"I may have walked in on your lesson, and stayed because it was too damn good not to."

"What is wrong with you?" She questioned as she dug her pointer finger square into his chest which only made him to begin to laugh more. "Sneaking up on me all day. That's not OK, Rick," she warned as she shook her head.

"Sure it is," he disagreed, grabbing the finger in his hand, before returning it to his chest. "I can't help it, I love hearin' your voice. Listenin' to what you have to say. How can that be a bad thing?"

"It's not, I guess…sometimes I do ask you to repeat yourself because even after all this time, I still think your accent is so damn cute," she admitted.

Author's Note: The children's book referenced in this one shot is _Llama Llama Red Pajama_ by Anna Dewdney who passed away this past week. I heard a feature about her on NPR, and clips of her reading passages from the book were enough to make me tear up in my car. I thought it was such a quirky, sweet story about the bond between mother and child that would work perfectly for Michonne and Judith.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Couldn't help myself. This was inspired by a little chat I had with some of my favs after the episode. Happy Anniversary!

**Episode 7x10: New Best Friends**

"Any idea when your last tetanus shot was?" Michonne asked as she opened the door to their home, hands full with the few medical supplies she had managed to scrounge up.

She looked to the living room where she had left him not fifteen minutes earlier while she ran over to what was left of the infirmary, but he was nowhere to be found. The couch was empty save for the two floral pillows at each end, and the lantern burning on the coffee table only further illuminated the empty room.

"Rick?"

"I'm in here."

She followed the raspy voice past the kitchen and down the hallway that led to her old room where she found him, standing there in the dark in his boxers and a clean white t-shirt, curls now damp from the long shower she made him take immediately upon returning home instead of sweat; rifling through the now mostly empty drawers of her dresser with his good hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh...I was just lookin'..."

He pulled his hand out of the drawer looking as guilty as a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He tried to disarm her with one of those smiles she had tried to coax out of him earlier in the day, but she didn't seem amused at all since he had disregarded her strict orders to rest.

"I figured you kept some thread and needles in here from when you use to do that thang," he explained as he traced a criss-cross pattern on his chest, "with your shirts."

_That thang_ she smirked to herself. He didn't listen worth a damn, but at least he was damn cute while doing it.

"I just talked to Rosita and she said no stitches for now since it's a dirty wound," she informed him, figuring he was just trying to scrounge up some makeshift medical supplies in the event she was unsuccessful. "Just keep it cleaned and wrapped. And here," she said offering up a brown plastic bottle marked with the word _cephalexin_ and five or six green capsules inside. "It's not nearly enough, but it's all we had left. Hopefully it will help prevent infection."

"Save it," he said, reaching out to push it back into her possession.

"Rick," she started, not at all concealing how displeased she was. "It's your right hand. If things go wrong, we don't have the people or resources here to fix it anymore."

She reached down and gently brushed her fingers across his bandaged right hand, the one that had only just been reunited with the Colt Python that it so lethally wielded and the one they would without question need for this war they were waging.

"We need you strong," she said in that low, pleading tone that always grounded him and appealed to his better senses.

He took the bottle from her hand and shook out one capsule, popped it in his mouth, then reached for the bottle of water she was now offering him to wash down. He teasingly opened his mouth to show her that it was now empty since she was watching him like a hawk, which caused her to swat him against the chest with her hand before bringing it up to his chin, grasping it between her thumb and forefinger. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, then pulled away, quite pleased that he had caved.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" she teased in a low whisper as her hand trailed down from his chin to his chest.

"No," he admitted, grinning back at her.

"Come on," she said as she wrapped an arm around his waist and nudged her way under his arm. "You supposed be off your feet."

He reached back toward the dresser and shut the drawer with one hand while wrapped the other arm around her, taking her support as he limped back out to the living room with her.

"So you don't keep the sewing stuff in there?"

"No, it was all in one of the kitchen drawers, but I doubt it's there anymore since the damn saviors…" she trailed off as she looked up at him and tilted her head. "Wait, why?"

He lifted the hand at his side revealing a jumbled wad of faded, threadbare grey fabric that was streaked with deep red stains and coated in dirt.

"No," she said adamantly, shaking her head. "Uh uh."

"It's my only pair," he protested.

"That's not true and you know it," she argued as she helped him ease onto the couch.

"It's my _favorite_ pair."

"Rick…"

She sighed as she stood in front of him, hands on her hips, just staring at the pathetic excuse for a pair of pants he was clinging to.

"Can you just try?" he asked as he offered them up to her.

She looked into his pleading eyes which was nearly her undoing because they were so blue and so earnest that she could feel herself losing her nerve a little. So she shifted her gaze back to the disgusting mass of fabric in his hand, but that wasn't helping either because her eyes were drawn to the bruises and cuts marring his arms, and reminding her of all of the trials and tribulations he had been through which only further eroded her resolve.

She looked away from him all together, averting her eyes to the corner of the room where the rusted brown wire cat now sat on one of the shelves that had been wiped clean by the Saviors. The cat that had no eyes even seemed to be side-eying her. She could practically feel it judging her and hear it hissing _heartless_ at her hesitation to help him.

She looked back down at him and grabbed the jeans out of his hand. She had to try for him. She just had to.

"We'll put them in the wash first. If they make it through, I'll see what I can do."

* * *

She pulled the needle through the loop of thread, locking the stitch for at least the seventh or eighth time before reaching for the knife that sat beside her to cut the thread. She set the knife that was acting as a pair of scissors on the arm of the couch and stuck the needle into the couch cushion then grabbed the leg of the jeans in both hands, holding it up to the lantern light to examine her handy-work. She pulled firmly several times, convincing herself that her stitch could hold up to some more wear and tear. She marveled at the damn things; weathered and beat to hell, but still hanging on by a thread against all odds. She shook her head and grinned as she folded them and placed them over the arm of the couch.

She yawned and placed her now free hands on the tops of Rick's feet that laid upon a pillow in her lap, her way of ensuring that he kept his legs elevated to help with healing under the guise of cuddling on the couch. It was well after midnight by now, and the house had been silent and still for hours. With no bed to go to, she decided that she would close her eyes right then and there and call it a night like the rest of her family already had. She glanced down at the opposite end of the couch to check in on her love one final time only to find his eyes open and gazing back at her.

"Did I wake you up?" she whispered.

"No," he whispered back with a sleepy grin. "I've been up for a little while now."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to bother you. You looked like you were enjoying the peace and quiet."

"My grandmother taught me how to sew," she volunteered, sharing a rare memory from before with him. "I used to love working in her sewing room with her. I haven't done something like that in a long time."

"You've still got it," he pointed out as he glanced at the beloved pair of jeans she had managed to salvage for him.

She glanced at the jeans, as well, and began to grin. "I've still got it," she admitted.

"Come 'ere," he said as he opened his arms to her.

She leaned over to turn the lantern off then pulled her feet up onto the couch and gently displaced his feet and the pillow from her lap before the snaked her way up into the narrow space between his body and the couch. She rested her head on his chest, careful not to lean on him too hard, while he wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss into her temple.

"Today was a pretty good day," he whispered.

She reflexively laughed at his verdict on the long and arduous day they had had. There were failures, close calls, sweat, and blood; but there had also been some smiles, some victories, and damn gorgeous cat.

"Yeah, it was a pretty good day," she agreed. "And tomorrow will be even better."


End file.
